Harry Potter and the Slytherin Slave
by CarsonLuke
Summary: AU. Draco Malfoy was a Prince. Harry was a peasant. What will happen when Draco's country is invaded and he is capture and sold into slavery, only to be bought by none other than Harry himself. How long can he hide his true identity? Warning: Slash.
1. Prologue

**Title-**Harry Potter and the Slytherin Slave

**Author-**CarsonLuke

**Rating-**M for swearing, dark themes, and my paranoia.

**Story Summary-** AU. Draco Malfoy was a Prince. Harry was a peasant. What will happen when Draco's country is invaded and he is capture and sold into slavery, only to be bought by none other than Harry himself. How long can he hide his true identity? And what about his growing feelings for his young master? Warning: Slash.

**Chapter Summary-**The back-story

**Author's Note-**Okay, I know this part is short, and boring, but it's vital to know to understand the story. So please read. I swear it will get better. A lot better. Oh, and the chapters in this fic will be a lot longer than the ones in Help Me.

**Disclaimer-**The magnificent Draco and the others all belong to JK.

**Prologue**

On a distant continent called Hogwarts, located in the middle of the ocean, there are four countries. The first and the largest of these countries is called Gryffindor. It is known for its bravery and for its chivalry. The next country, Ravenclaw, is known for its brains and wit. The third country, Hufflepuff, is known for patience and loyalty. And the final country, Slytherin, is known to be cunning and ambitious.

For nearly ten years, the lands of Gryffindor and Slytherin have been at war. It has been a dark time, as many lives have been lost. There was a time when these two lands were quite peaceful. However, that time, is long gone.

**Author's Note-**This is my second Fanfic. I'm only fourteen. No flames please.


	2. Burning

**Title-**Harry Potter and the Slytherin Slave

**Author-**CarsonLuke

**Rating-**M for swearing, dark themes, and my paranoia.

**Story Summary-** AU. Draco Malfoy was a Prince. Harry was a peasant. What will happen when Draco's country is invaded and he is capture and sold into slavery, only to be bought by none other than Harry himself. How long can he hide his true identity? And what about his growing feelings for his young master? Warning: Slash.

**Chapter Summary-**Draco's city is invaded and he escapes by posing as a peasant…only to be caught by the Gryffindors.

**Disclaimer-**The magnificent Draco and the others all belong to JK.

**Chapter One-Burning **

_-Draco-_

It was cold in the land of Slytherin.

I was running.

And the city was on fire.

Yes, the city, the capitol city, where Slytherin Palace was located, was on fire. Burning. Screams echoed through the night, chilling me to the bone. The Gryffindor armies had penetrated the walls of the grand city and they had lit the place up. I could see the red and orange flames licking at everything in their path, lighting up the sky.

This was bad. This was horribly, terribly bad. Not only was the city burning, the flames creeping closer to the castle were I was, but over half of the Slytherin army was gone. Twelve hours ago, there had been Gryffindor armies spotted in the land, so father had taken nearly all his soldiers and they had marched out to meet them.

And then Gryffindors had attacked when they were gone. It had been a trick. The small amount of soldiers we had were currently fighting at the city's gates, fighting to keep them away from the castle, and trying to put the fire out.

I ran down the corridors. I had no idea where my mother was. I had no idea how many Gryffindors were inside the city walls. I had no idea if they were in the castle yet.

I had no idea how to escape.

I whipped around the corner, nearly plowing into Blaise Zabini, my personal servant and friend, who was holding a dirty looking bundle. "Draco!" he exclaimed. "Quick! They're looking for you and your mother! They're going to kill you! You need to escape!" He thrust the bundle at me. I looked at it. What was he doing, stopping me in the halls? We needed to get out of here! The place was going to burn! "Put those on!"

"What?" I demanded. "We need to get out, not _change!"_

"If you look like you, the Gryffindors will kill you! You need to look like a commoner!"

Beginning to understand, I began ripping off the robes I'd been wearing. I looked down at the bundle he'd given me. There was a dirty, long sleeved that used to be white, but now didn't quite qualify. Shuddering, I put it on. It had multiple holes. There trousers were a brownish color and quite itchy, patches and holes in these too. Blaise quickly took his clothing off, changing into mine. "Go out the servant's door; there are Gryffindors at the others," he told me, taking off in the opposite direction.

"Wait!" I called after him. "Where are you going? And why are you wearing my robes?"

He turned, pulling the hood up to obscure his face. "I'm the distraction, Draco. They'll think I'm you. When you get outside, make a run towards the gates."

"Wait, Blaise, if they think you're me, they'll try and kill you."

"When you get outside, smear dirt on your face and in your hair so you don't look so fucking rich."

"Blaise, they'll kill you!" I protested, glancing out the window. The flames were getting closer.

"I'll be fine! Run, Draco!" he screamed at me.

I hesitated, then took off down the hallways. I flew down the stairs, flung open a door hidden behind a portrait off my father, a rushed down the servant's corridors. I threw open the door and immediately started choking on smoke. I dropped to my knees and scooped up some dirt and mud, smearing it on my pale face and dumped a whole bunch of dirt in my hair.

I stood up, looking around. Dead bodies littered the streets. There were a couple of men wearing green and black, but they were washed out by the sea of red and gold. The Gryffindor soldiers uniforms were the color of the fire itself.

The flames leapt at everything. Nearly half the city was burning. Not sparing a glance over my shoulder, I took off towards the gates.

I was choking and I couldn't see much-the smoke was too thick. I didn't even register the pain in my feet from steeping on broken glass and who knows what else. When the invasion had begun, I had been preparing for bed. When I'd begun my race down the hall, I hadn't thought to put on shoes. I dashed around men in red and gold, leaping over multiple dead people with deadly burns or stab wounds. The fighting had gotten away from the gates; the Gryffindors were pushing their way towards the heart of the city. I was nearly to the gates. If I could just get beyond it, I would be free. I'd keep running, find Father, and tell him what happened. I didn't even want to think about Mother. Hopefully she had made it out.

It was getting hard to breath; the smoke was starting to suffocate me. Everything was becoming blurry. I fell over onto the ground, right next to the dead body of a little girl. The last thing I saw before I passed out was the night sky, the stars blotted out by the smoke.

-oOo-

I woke up coughing.

"Shh," someone hissed, right next to my ear. I nearly jumped out of my skin. "You're going to make them mad!"

"What? What's going on?" I whispered back. I tried to rub at my bleary eyes, but I couldn't. My hands were tied behind my back. It felt like I was moving, like I was in a carriage or something. I was laying on my side, my face pressed into something hard. My feet were bound as well.

"The Gryffindors took prisoners. They loaded about ten of us into a wagon. I don't know if there's any more wagons, or if we're the only ones," the person next to me murmured. It was a female voice, I noted. "They thought I was knocked out and I heard them talking. They plan to make us slaves."

I couldn't breathe. I was Draco Malfoy, heir to the throne of Slytherin! I was _not_ a slave! I took a couple shaky breathes, then asked, "What happened to the city?"

"Completely destroyed," my companion answered. "Burnt down. I think everyone died, or their headed towards slavery, like us."

Oh god. What had happened to Blaise? What about Mother? "The Queen?"

She didn't answer for a while. "Dead."

I laid my head back down on the ground, barely suppressing my sobs. My mother was dead, as was my friend most likely, and I was bound for a life of slavery.

**Author's Note**-What do you think? Does this have potential? Review please!

P.S. Please note that I do not have a beta. If you notice any spelling/grammar mistakes, please tell me. I edit each chapter myself, but I'm sure there are a couple things I miss.


	3. Sold

**Title-**Harry Potter and the Slytherin Slave

**Author-**CarsonLuke

**Rating-**M for swearing, dark themes, and my paranoia.

**Story Summary-** AU. Draco Malfoy was a Prince. Harry was a peasant. What will happen when Draco's country is invaded and he is capture and sold into slavery, only to be bought by none other than Harry himself. How long can he hide his true identity? And what about his growing feelings for his young master? Warning: Slash.

**Chapter Summary-**Draco arrives in Gryffindor and Harry and his family go to the slave traders.

**Disclaimer-**The magnificent Draco and the others all belong to JK.

**Chapter Two-Sold**

_-Draco-_

I was knocked back into consciousness when the wagon hit a pothole, sending us crashing into the wall. "Oof!" my companion growled. There were plenty of others in the wagon, but they were either knocked out or not speaking.

I hissed out a breath. "Do you think they're taking us back to Hogsmeade?" I asked, referring to the capitol of Gryffindor.

"Probably," she answered. "That's where they do slave trading. Before the war, my family used to visit on occasion, and I saw a couple of the places where they auction. I'm Pansy, by the way."

I was just about to tell her my name when I realized what would ensue. I could not let anyone know my true identity, no matter what. If I wanted to escape, I had to remain a commoner, a nobody. "Caelum." I had always loved the stars, and Caelum was the name of a constellation, so I knew I'd remember it.

"Well, Caelum, I hope I see you again after this."

-oOo-

The next time I opened my eyes, I could finally see. There were nine of us in a cage structure built into the back of the wagon. I finally got my first glimpse of Pansy. She was a slender girl with dark hair and a pretty face. The others in the cage were staring dimly, all hope gone in their eyes. Admittedly, I felt the same way.

"Welcome to Hogsmeade," Pansy murmured. I looked out the back of the wagon. It looked quite like the Great City in Slytherin, but instead of black and green banners, there were red and gold ones. And the streets were crowded with people, all smiling and cheering.

"What are they doing?" I whispered.

"Celebrating their victory. They destroyed our capitol. They could have just won the war."

The people in the streets were shouting god-awful things about Slytherins. I crowded closer to Pansy, the rope around my wrists cutting my skin up. Looking out at all these people, it all came crashing down on me, hard. I really was going to be a slave. I wasn't going to be a Prince anymore- I'd be the lowest of the low.

We jerked to a stop suddenly, sending me flying forwards. Then rough hands were grabbing me, dragging me out of the wagon. I looked up into the scarred face of a very muscular Gryffindor soldier. He grabbed me by the arm, hauling me inside a very gross looking building. Once inside, he shoved me into a cell, not bothering to untie my restraints. Pansy was thrown into the cell next to mine, the others in the ones around me.

"Well," Pansy said, managing to get herself up into a sitting position although her hands and feet were tied. "Welcome to the beginning of the rest of our lives."

-oOo-

_-Harry-_

I sat in my home, my godfather, Sirius Black, across from me. I'd lived with my godfather practically my whole life. My parents had been killed when I was young; I could barely remember them. Sirius was my family. Sirius and Remus Lupin, who had been another of my father's friends.

"Heard they captured a bunch of Slytherin's at the raid," Sirius began, looking towards Remus, who sat in the tall armchair, his back to us. "They're selling them at the slave market."

"Most likely," Remus murmured. All I could see of him was his hand as it stretched out to pick up the teacup that sat on the side table next to him.

"We need to go to the city anyways," my godfather stated. "Suppose we should stop by? Take a look at them?"

Remus sighed. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt. We do desperately need a new slave; Jeremy is getting quite old. We need a new one to do the hard work Jeremy can't do anymore."

"Best be off soon, hadn't we? You coming with, Harry?" He peered at me, his long black hair wild. I nodded. I'd never been to a slave auction before.

We walked outside, getting on out horses. It was only a couple hours to the city. We would be there in no time.

-oOo-

I took my seat on one of the hard benches in between Sirius and Remus. There was a large stage up in front of us, a man in grimy clothes standing up there. "Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome." He smiled, showing gold-capped teeth. "As _everyone_ knows, we recently raided the capitol city of Slytherin." This got a lot of cheers from the audience. Behind him, about fifteen people ranging from five years younger to ten years older than my seventeen years were standing on the stage. They were mostly men and boys, and couple girls thrown in. The slave trader swept his hand towards them, stopping at the first. It was a short, thin boy, with dirty brown hair and dark skin. "Take a few moments to think over it, then we will let the bidding begin."

I looked at my godfather. "Are we going to bid on him?"

Sirius squinted, then looked at Remus. The both shook their heads at the same time. "He's too short, Moony."

"Yah, Padfoot, he'll never be able to do the field work." Remus tapped fingers on the bench.

The slaves were sold off, one by one, until there was only a girl with long dark hair and a pale thin boy with dirt smeared on his face and in his hair. Unlike the others, these two weren't looking down at their feet; they were staring venomously out into the eyes of the crowd.

"See those two?" Sirius asked, leaning closer to me to whisper in my ear. "I think those two are true Slytherins. The others were most likely slaves in Slytherin. These two, however, were probably free."

I kept staring at the last boy. He was tall and quite feminine looking, his cheekbones high. His dirty pale brown hair fell in grey eyes. His skin was covered in soot and dirt.

The girl sold quickly, hauled away snarling. Finally, it was the boy's turn.

"Do I have any takers?" the slave trader asked.

No one in the arena spoke up. The slave looked too frail, too weak to do any work. I looked around at my family. Remus and Sirius were both frowning.

"Shit, Moony, if no one buys him, they'll sell him to the sex slave traders. Someone will buy him quick there; he's too pretty." My eyes widened. Oh god. I couldn't imagine that. Being forced to have sex with someone who could do whatever they pleased with you.

Moony was silent for a moment, staring at the boy intently. Then he stood up. "Three silvers."

The slave trader frowned. He probably figured he could make a much bigger buck selling him to the sex trade. However, if he had a taker, he couldn't disagree. "Do I hear four silvers? Four silvers! Okay, three silvers, going once, going twice, and sold to the man in the fifth row."

**Author's Note-**Please review. I love seeing them in my inbox :)


	4. Tattoos

**Title-**Harry Potter and the Slytherin Slave

**Author-**CarsonLuke

**Rating-**M for swearing, dark themes, and my paranoia.

**Story Summary-** AU. Draco Malfoy was a Prince. Harry was a peasant. What will happen when Draco's country is invaded and he is capture and sold into slavery, only to be bought by none other than Harry himself. How long can he hide his true identity? And what about his growing feelings for his young master? Warning: Slash.

**Chapter Summary-**Harry and his family bring Draco home.

**Disclaimer-**The magnificent Draco and the others all belong to JK. Sadly.

**Chapter Three-Tattoos **

_-Harry-_

I stared at our new slave. He smirked out at the crowd. Sirius sighed, glancing at Remus. "We're going to have our work cut out for us with this one."

"But he's not going to be raped for money, so it is okay." Remus started up towards the stands. I followed quickly after him, Sirius right behind me. When we got up to the stage, I got a better look at the slave. His eyes were a very pale grey, the color of stones. There were a couple cuts on his cheeks but nothing major. His hair, it appeared, wasn't actually brown; there was just so much dirt in it that you couldn't make out the actual color.

A slave handler came up behind the boy and fastened a chain around his neck, handing the leather leash attachment to Remus.

The slave looked up into Remus's eyes, fire in his own. He shifted his eyes to me, then looked away He held his head high as we led him down the path to where our horses were tethered.

_-Draco-_

I stared at the people that I was expected to serve. There was a tall, thin man with dark eyes, and wild black curls that cascaded over his shoulders. Then there was a thin man with light brown hair flecked with grey. His clothing was shabby and patched. He looked young, but he still had a couple wrinkles. The last of my 'masters' was no more than seventeen. He had unruly black hair and luminous green eyes that hid behind round spectacles. He was slightly taller than myself, and he had a lot more muscle than me. I stared him down. He blushed, then looked away.

He didn't look at me and he secured the leash attached to the chain around my neck to the saddle of his horse. I stared at him in disbelief. I was expected to _walk?_ I am a Malfoy! I do not _walk_ alongside like a peasant!

I noticed the shabby one watching me and whipped my glare around onto him. "It's about five miles to our farm," he told me, not wavering under my glare. _Farm? _I was a prince, not a farmer! "You will be fine walking that far, I assume."

I sneered at him. "Yes, _Master_," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

He ignored me, swinging up onto his horse. The wild man was already on his, frowning down at me. "He saved you, boy. If he hadn't bought you, you would have been made a sex slave." For a moment, my eyes went wide with horror, but I quickly masked it. However, the looks on the three faces said they had seen it. "You should learn to respect him." He and Shabby Man began walking down the streets of Hogsmeade, people making way for their horses.

I didn't say anything, just looked down at my feet. The ebony haired boy swung up onto his horse and urged it into a slow walk. The chain jerked against my neck, and I could feel it cutting into my flesh. I let out a small yelp, rushing to keep up.

I kept my head down the whole way to the city. Now that I wasn't in a state of panic, I could feel the cuts on my feet. I knew there were probably pieces of glass wedged in there from running through the streets of the Slytherin capitol without shoes. Now, as I walked down the country road, tied to the horse, every step sent a wave of agony through my feet.

My new owners didn't seem to notice. I had to admit, they seemed a lot kinder than some of the faces I had seen in the crowd at the Slave Trader's. I had been terrified, staring out into those grimy, menacing faces.

I didn't trust my owners as far as I could throw them, though. And that wasn't very far.

And what had become of Pansy? Would I ever see my short time friend again? Then I was struck by a horrid thought. Was _she_ going to be a sex slave?

God, I hoped not.

It seemed like forever before a small, stone cottage came into view. There was smoke coming out of the chimney. I glanced up at the black haired boy. He looked back down at me, then blushed again and looked away from me quickly. The four of us arrived at a barn, where they put their horses. The wild man untied me with long fingers with yellowy, chipped fingernails. I shied away from him as he led me into the house.

Inside the front door was a small living/kitchen/dining room. There was a brownish couch and a big, purple armchair. There were a couple of threadbare rugs on the floor and blankets thrown over the backs of the couches. There was a grandfather clock against one wall, next to a big stone fireplace, a fire crackling within it. There weren't any decorations like there would be in the Slytherin Palace. In fact most things in the room didn't even match. There were a couple of framed pictures on the table next to the armchair. The kitchen was simple, just a wood burning stove and a little counter space, with a wash basin for cleaning the dishes. The wild man led me over to a small table with four chairs that looked like they'd had a lot of use. He sat me down in one, taking a seat across from me. The ebony haired boy sat next to him, still blushing when he looked at me. The shabby man came in last, shutting the door behind him. He got a big, ceramic bowl from the cupboards and filled it with water from a pitcher. He got a rag and sat down next to me.

"My name is Remus Lupin," he told me in a calm, slow voice. I stared at him blankly. "This is Sirius Black." He gestured to the wild man. "And this is his godson, Harry Potter." The ebony haired boy gave me a nervous smile. "We treat our slaves well, but you are still expected to obey our commands, understood?"

I simply looked at him, then shrugged. I still couldn't believe that I was expected to work for these lowly peasants. I was a Prince! I was the _heir _to the Slytherin _throne!_

The wild man-Sirius-pulled out a knife and walked towards me. My eyes went wide and I yelped, scurrying to me feet. They had tethered my leash to the chair, so when I tried to run I knocked the chair over and the chains sliced into my skin, causing me to fall to the ground. Sirius bent over me and sliced through the ropes securing my wrists. Astonished, I gaped at him as he undid the chains from around my neck. "We don't believe in keeping our slaves chained."

I didn't move from the floor, slowly raising my grimy hands in inspect my wrists. They were bloody and cut. My eyes widened as I realized something that would probably get me killed. On each of my inner wrists, I had a tattoo. On the right one, there was the Slytherin Crest. This was no big deal; most Slytherins had it. But on my _left_ wrist was the Malfoy Crest. Only the royal family had this one. And if my captors found this out, they would kill me. I was a Malfoy, whom Gryffindors hated dearly.

Quickly, I tugged my sleeves down to cover them.

Trying to act like nothing was wrong, I took my seat again, eying Sirius warily.

"What is your name?" Remus asked.

I stared at him for a moment, then said, "Caelum."

"Caelum, you will be expected to work out in the fields, tend to the crops, care for the animals, and tend to our needs. We have another slave, Jeremy, who will help you," Remus explained. "Harry, clean up Caelum, will you?"

The young one nodded and waited till they left to dip the rag in the water. "Hello," he said quietly.

I glared at him. I was not his slave. I was my own person. I was royalty!

But I had to pretend I wasn't. If I wanted to survive. As soon as I could, I would run and I would find my father.

And then we'll see who was whose slave.

**Author's Note-**Hello! I wrote this at 4:30 in the morning! And no, not because I get up this early, but because I woke up to my alarm clock was turning on and off and on and off and on and off and on and off, beeping each time. I threatened to throw it across the room and eventually unplugged it. Satisfied that I had solved the problem, I went back to bed. A few minutes later, I woke up because all my blankets had fallen off the bed. So I turned the light on to find them. And the light kept turning on and off and on and off and on and off and on and off. And that is when I realized this was due to the MASSIVE thunderstorm currently going on in central Iowa, where I live. This thunderstorm was causing _huge_ power surges and everything plugged in in my room kept turning on and off. And now I'm hopelessly awake, unable to fall asleep.

But, to get to the real point, please review.


	5. Dirt, Grime, and Blood

**Title-**Help Me

**Author-**CarsonLuke

**Rating-**M for swearing, dark themes, and my paranoia

**Story Summary-** AU. Draco Malfoy was a Prince. Harry was a peasant. What will happen when Draco's country is invaded and he is capture and sold into slavery, only to be bought by none other than Harry himself. How long can he hide his true identity? And what about his growing feelings for his young master? Warning: Slash.

**Chapter Summary-**Harry cleans up Draco and tries to help tend to his wounds.

**Disclaimer-**The characters belong to J.K., but the plot is mine.

**Chapter Four-Dirt, Grime, and Blood**

_-Harry-_

Caelum gazed at me intensely as I brought the wet cloth up to his face, wiping away the dirt. Under the scum and the grime, he was very pale. I washed it all off his face. He had a very angular, pointed face, with hollow cheeks and thin, arching eyebrows.

I'd known that I was gay for a long time. My godfather and Remus were fine with it, but I'd never really had any other boys around, besides Jeremy, and he was nearly twenty years older than me.

I paused, then dipped the rag in the water and brought it up to his hair. It took a long time, and the water was brown by the time I was done, but I finally got the dirt out of his hair. It, as I had suspected, wasn't brown. It was a very pale, white blonde. The color of snow.

He was beautiful.

I swallowed hard. "Let me see your wrists so I can clean the cuts."

For a moment, sheer panic was visible in his eyes before he snapped, "I'll do it myself!"

_-Draco-_

The surprise was evident on Harry's face as he nodded slowly, handing me the rag. I took it, pulling my left sleeve down, careful to keep my inner wrists out of Harry's line of sight. I inspected my wounds for a moment. There were raw, red lines dripping blood on my wrists. I brought the cloth up, washing away the blood. I frowned when a red dribble came back up. Then I had an idea. Looking up at Harry as if I was a good little slave-doing this sickened me-I asked, "May I have a bandage to stop the bleeding?"

I was celebrating on the inside. I was killing two birds with one rock! Or however that saying goes. Anyways, not only was I stopping the bleeding, I was also covering up the tattoo!

"Oh, of course." He stood up, pulling a roll of gauze and medical tape from a drawer. I took it with my non-Malfoy Crest hand and set to wrapping the bandages around my wrists-it was quite difficult with only one hand.

"Let me help you with that," Harry reached out to take my hand put I yanked it away from him.

"I can do it myself, Gryffindor!" I shouted.

Harry's eyes were wide, his mouth hanging open. "I…um…I…I just thought maybe you needed help. You were struggling. I…"

I sighed. If it meant shutting him up, I was willing to compromise. "You can wrap the tape around it."

_-Harry-_

I took Caelum's hand in mine. His were very pale and bony, with the long, slim fingers of a pianist. His hands were soft, too. Sure that I was blushing, I took the medical tape and wrapped it around the bandages that he had secured around his wrist. I had no idea why he had freaked out and yelled at me for trying to help with those, but I wasn't going to push it.

If I wanted to get to know Caelum, I was going to have to get on his good side.

And that, it appeared was going to be very hard.

I wanted to be his friend. Living out here in the country with only Sirius and Remus didn't allow me to make very many friends. Really, my only friends were Jeremy, my godfather, Remus, and the family who lived on a neighboring farm-the Weaslys.

After the bandage was secure, Caelum snatched his hand back, proceeding to clean the other wrist. He struggled for a while before getting the gauze around wrapped around his wrist. He frowned at me, then held out the wrist. I took his hand, taping the wrap in place.

"All right then, I guess I'll show you around now." I stood up and waited for him, but he didn't move from his chair. "Get up."

"Perhaps you could do one more thing for me," he grumbled. He looked as if he really didn't want to be asking for help.

"What is it?" I questioned.

"When your horrid soldiers burnt my Great City, I wasn't wearing shoes." He had a drawl, I noticed, which was very cute. His silver eyes flicked up to me for a moment, then returned back to his hands. "You can see where that would be a problem, seeing as there was god knows what was in the streets."

"Oh, I'll take a look then." I sat down next to him. He propped one of his feet up in my lap, which really sent tingles through my body. Ignoring them, I looked at the bottom at his feet, which had me gaping again. They were sliced up, the cuts open, some bleeding. I could see pieces of glass sticking out of the cuts. "Wait here, Caelum, I'm going to go get Remus."

I took off towards his study, barely pausing to knock, which he told me always to do. However, I didn't wait for him to respond; I flung open the door and barged in. Remus looked up from the book he'd been reading at his desk, startled. "Harry, what in god's name is wrong? Did the slave do something?"

"No, he didn't do anything, it's just…I just...You need to help me. He's hurt, and I don't know what to do."

"Calm down, Harry. Let me take a look." Relief washed over me and I led him back to where Draco sat at the table. He was rubbing at the cuts on his neck. Remus occupied the seat that I had previously been sitting in. "Show me your feet, Caelum."

The blonde looked at him suspiciously, then slowly, grasped his ankle, settling his foot on Remus's thigh. The graying man looking grim when as he inspected the wounds. "They're definitely infected. Harry, go get me a bottle of Firewhiskey from the cabinet and the tweezers from the drawer."

**Author's Note-**Sorry, I've had this written for a long time, but I've been working at my church's vacation bible school, helping to teach fifteen really bratty 1st and 2nd graders and have been too tired to update. And when I wasn't at bible school, I was looking at the damage that Monday's storm did to my small town. The bleachers at my school's softball field were completely thrown over into the back stop, which was ripped out of the ground. and we didn't even have a tornado, just flat line winds.

But anyways, I finally posted it, so please review.


	6. Firewhiskey and Tweezers

**Title-**Harry Potter and the Slytherin Slave

**Author-**CarsonLuke

**Rating-**M for swearing, dark themes, and my paranoia.

**Story Summary-** AU. Draco Malfoy was a Prince. Harry was a peasant. What will happen when Draco's country is invaded and he is capture and sold into slavery, only to be bought by none other than Harry himself. How long can he hide his true identity? And what about his growing feelings for his young master? Warning: Slash.

**Chapter Summary-**Draco's injuries are treated, Sirius voices his opinion on the new slave, and Draco finds his new room not to his liking.

**Author's Note-**I've had writer's block lately, so sorry if this isn't very good.

**Disclaimer-**The magnificent Draco and the others all belong to JK.

**Chapter Five-**Firewhiskey and Tweezers

_-Draco-_

Is it just me, or did the combination of Firewhiskey and tweezers sound rather painful? I stared at Remus with wide eyes. Harry stood up at got a pair of tweezers from the drawers and a bottle of Firewhiskey from the last cabinet on the left. He handed Remus the items, then put fresh water in the bowl.

The shabby man peered at my foot, shaking his head. "There's a lot of glass in there, boy." He picked up the rag, splashing the Firewhiskey on it. "This is going to hurt."

Then he began rubbing the rag against the bottom of my foot.

I screamed at the searing pain and tried to yank away from him, but he held onto my ankle, still wiping at my wounds. He set the rag back, picking up the tweezers.

"You will need to hold still," he told me, looking me straight in the eye. "It will hurt more if you fight it."

I nodded shakily, panting. I bit my lip as he steadied the tweezers against one of the wounds.

"On three, okay? One, two…three." He slid the tweezers into my wound, trying to extract pieces of glass.

It hurt like fucking hell. I screamed, not able to keep the tears from running.

_-Harry-_

It was horrid.

Tears were streaming down Caelum's face. His knuckles were white from gripping the bottom of the chair. He was panting, but other than that, he was deathly still.

Remus slowly withdrew yet another piece of glass, setting it on the table. As he started on another one, Caelum let out a short sob.

I couldn't watch this. I didn't like seeing him cry. Quickly, I turned, walking outside.

Sirius was sitting on the porch, staring out at the fields. Thinking about the crops, I assumed. "What's all that ruckus in their about?" he asked, his voice neutral.

"Remus is caring for Caelum's wounds," I murmured softly. "He has glass shards in his feet."

Sirius nodded, not shifting his gaze from the fields. "There's something off about that boy. I can feel it. I don't know what it is, but I know it's something. Be careful."

I nodded. I had been getting the same feeling-there was definitely something wrong with the blonde haired Slytherin.

I sat in silence with my godfather for nearly ten minutes. It wasn't an awkward silence, though, because we were so close. I figured my relationship with him was like how my relationship with my father would have been.

But I didn't have any memories of my father, as he had died when I was just a baby.

Remus stepped out onto the porch, closing the door behind him. "I've taken care of the boy's injuries," he announced. "Harry, if you would show him to the slave quarters, that would be greatly appreciated."

I stood up, walking inside. Caelum was sitting at the table still, but now his feet were wrapped in bandages from the ankles to the soles of his feet. I walked over to him, standing before him. "Uh, I'm supposed to show you where you'll be staying."

He looked up at me, his silver eyes blank. "Fine." He made no attempt to get up.

Slowly, I extended my hand to help him up. With a look of resent, he took it and allowed me to pull him to his feet. He winced as pressure was applied to his wounds. His hand tightened in mine.

I stared down at our hands. Then, before I could allow myself all sorts of little fantasies, he yanked his hand away from mine and glared at me. "Well? Aren't you going to show me?"

I opened my mouth, then closed it, nodding. I didn't trust myself to talk. He was so beautiful.

And he hated my guts.

_-Draco-_

I glared at Harry's back as I followed him up the stairs, wincing with every step. The wounds on my feet were on fire, and it took all of my restraint to keep from crying out in pain.

Harry led me upstairs and down the hall, into a small room, the only pieces of furniture being a dresser and a bunk bed. Frowning, I looked around. The lower bunk was a mess of blankets and a pillow, while the upper bunk was neatly made.

"You'll be sharing the room with our other slave, Jeremy," Harry explained.

I gaped at him. _Share_ the room? I couldn't believe this! The room was smaller than my closet back in the Slytherin Palace, and I _never_ would have expected to share a room there!

"Sh-Share?" I stuttered.

Harry blinked at me, frowning. "Well, yes."

"But the room is horridly tiny!" I exclaimed. "You can't possibly expect me to share it!"

My new 'master' was peering at my strangely. "Yes, we do expect you to share it. Every other room in this house is full. Sorry." He actually sounded apologetic. I wanted to laugh.

Fuming, I glanced over at the bunks again. Biting my lip, I nodded tensely. "Fine." If I wanted to find my father again, I would have to live with whatever this slave thing would throw at me. Shuddering at the idea of that, I looked up at Harry. He was studying me through his spectacles. When he noticed me staring back at him, he blushed and looked away.

He scuffed his feet nervously. "Well, uh, goodnight then."

I glared at his retreating back as he fled from the room. Once the door was shut firmly, I let out a long stream of cusses.

"Bloody hell!" I yelled. "This is outrageous! I am not a fucking slave! I refuse to be treated like one!" Growling audibly, I crossed my arms.

I climbed up onto the top bunk, laying down. It was cramped up here, the bed was uncomfortable, and the blankets were itchy. And my feet hurt. Slowly, my vision began to blur as tears welled up in my eyes. The tears spilled over my eyelashes, pouring down my cheeks. My mother was dead. I was in a foreign country. And I was a slave.

I sobbed, not bothering to try and hide my tears. I laid my head on the hard pillow and cried myself to sleep.

**Author's Note-**So? What do you think? Is it good? Is it horrible? Please review?


	7. The Pancake Incident

**Title-**Harry Potter and the Slytherin Slave

**Author-**CarsonLuke

**Rating-**M for swearing, dark themes, and my paranoia.

**Story Summary-** AU. Draco Malfoy was a Prince. Harry was a peasant. What will happen when Draco's country is invaded and he is capture and sold into slavery, only to be bought by none other than Harry himself. How long can he hide his true identity? And what about his growing feelings for his young master? Warning: Slash.

**Chapter Summary-**Draco gets his first real taste of being a slave.

**Author's Note-**Please read the author's note at the bottom.

**Disclaimer-**The magnificent Draco and the others all belong to JK.

**Chapter Six-The Pancake Disaster**

_-Draco-_

I moaned loudly, shoving away a hand that was gently shaking my shoulder. "Blaise, go away," I growled. "Tell Father I'm sick."

"Sorry, son, my names not Blaise," a gruff voice stated.

My eyes flew open. Standing before me was a tall man with graying brown hair. His eyes were the color of the sea and his skin was tanned. He wore a pair of old, fraying trousers and a patched red shirt. His face was weathered and wrinkled, but it looked kind.

I sat up and smacked my head on the ceiling.

Groaning, I fell back onto the bed, clutching my head. Could I possibly hurt myself more?

Chuckling, the man tugged the covers off of me. "Rise and shine, boy. There's work to be done."

I stared at him, eyes wide. Glancing out the tiny window, I could see the sun wasn't even up yet. I couldn't possibly be expected to wake up this early? In Slytherin, I'd slept till noon! Frowning, I glared at the older man.

"Who are you to tell me to get up?" I snarled.

The man laughed. He _laughed _at _me!_ "I'm Jeremy, son. I've been a slave to the Black/Lupin/Potter family for nearly ten years. I'm s'posed to show you what you're to do."

I glared at the slave again, but climbed out of the bunk, careful to watch my head. My feet ached, and each rung of the bunk bed ladder shot a fresh wave of pain through me. When I got down, Jeremy handed me a pair of black trousers and a red shirt with gold trim. "You can wear this."

I glanced at it and scoffed. "I am a Ma-Slytherin." I quickly caught myself, my eyes widening slightly at my slip-up. I'd almost announced my last name! I would have to be much more careful about what I said. "I will not wear Gryffindor colors."

The old slave rolled his eyes, but shrugged. "You want to wear those dirty rags? Be my guest."

I sneered at him, but remained silent. Jeremy opened the door, leading me down a short hall, the walls bear of any decoration. Frowning at the simplicity of it all, I let the slave lead me downstairs, into the kitchen.

Looking around, I saw that no one was awake yet, just the two of us. I still couldn't believe we were expected to get up this early.

"You'll be expected to cook meals, wash dishes, scrub floors, make the beds, and keep the house clean. You won't be expected to work outside because, well, truthfully, you're really quite scrawny." I met his smile with a glare.

I couldn't believe I was supposed to do all this. I'd never even touched a stove before in my life, as my personal chef cooked all my meals. I'd never washed a dish, scrubbed a floor, or made my bed. The maids all did that. And the palace had just always been spotless.

I was doomed.

"I have to go out and milk the cow," Jeremy told me. I nodded nonchalantly and stared at the stove. I heard his retreating footsteps, then the sound of the front door slamming.

Blowing my light blonde hair out of my face, I bit my lip and opened the cabinets. What did I make for breakfast? Rummaging around, I found a cookbook and smiled. I sat down and began to flip through the pages, looking for something that I thought I could succeed in making.

I smiled, looking at something that looked easy.

Pancakes.

My chef had made those sometimes. And, judging by the instructions, they were relatively easy.

Sighing, I went about getting out the ingredients. One cup of flour, one tablespoon of sugar, one teaspoon of baking powder, one half teaspoon of baking soda, a dash of salt, one cup buttermilk, one egg, and three tablespoons melted butter.

Okay. I can do this. I read the first step and put the flour, baking soda, baking powder, sugar, and salt in a large bowl, mixing it together.

Looking at my mixture, I smiled. I was doing this right, wasn't I?

I did the next two steps, and stopped to inspect the pancake batter. I frowned. I looked weird and lumpy and gross. Was it supposed to look like this? I didn't think so, but I pulled out the pan, and dumped a reasonable amount on anyways. I placed the pan on the stovetop and turned in on, watching it.

'When pancake it golden brown, flip it to the other side.'

I shrugged, setting the cookbook down. I could do this. I could handle this whole slave thing. Totally.

I looked back at the pan and saw that the pancake was 'golden brown.' I picked up the spatula and tried to flip the pancake over.

Nearly half the pancake stuck to the pan.

Okay, so I'd messed up. But it was my first time. That was to be expected, wasn't it? I'd just throw this pancake out and try again.

I tried to scrape the pancake off the pan, but it wouldn't budge. It was starting to blacken and smell. I picked up the pan, swinging it to the sink to try and wash it off, but I smacked the bowl of pancake mix and knocked the bowl off the counter in the process.

The batter splattered all over the kitchen floor.

I stared at it, open mouthed.

Slowly, I felt tears well up in my eyes. I dropped the pan onto the counter and stared at the mess.

I was screwed. I couldn't make fucking pancakes. How the hell was I supposed to do this slave thing? If I couldn't make pancakes, there was no way I could make meals every day. And then my 'masters' would get rid of me, and I'd never see my father again. I'd be stuck in Gryffindor forever!

I put my head in my hands and cried.

I vaguely heard the door open, but didn't really register it. Not until the intruder actually said something. "Hey, kid, you okay? Here, let me help you with that."

I slowly looked up, swiping angrily with at my tears. Jeremy was standing over me, a bucket filled with milk in his hands. He bent down and picked up the bowl and the pan. "Here, I'll make up a new batch of batter. You clean the floors." He tossed me a wet rag and went to work on the batter.

I got down on my hands and knees and _scrubbed the floors._ Like a servant. Which, I guess, I was.

The old man looked at me, stirring the bowl. "Either you were rich before you came here, and you had people to make your food, or you're just plain hopeless."

I looked up slowly at the old man. He was piling fluffy, perfectly done pancakes onto a platter. "Thanks for, you know, saving my ass."

He chuckled. "Anytime." He paused. "Boy, the Masters are good people. You behave and they'll treat you well."

I nodded. I tended to behave myself while I was here. Or at least _try_ to behave myself.

_-Harry-_

I opened my eyes and blinked drowsily. Sitting up, I swung my legs out of bed and began to get dressed. I tried to keep my thoughts strictly on combing my messy hair, but they kept wandering to the pale haired slave.

Why did he hate me so much? I only tried to help him. I'd never done anything to harm him!

Yet every time I tried to talk to him, he glared at me or said something insulting.

And then I stuttered and made a fool of myself. But he was just so damn cute! He was so rude and he obviously despised me, yet I couldn't stop finding his nearly white hair hot and his stone colored eyes beautiful.

Of course, that got me thinking about his eyes and, groaning, I slapped my forehead. "Stop it, Harry, you're so stupid! He's the _slave_; you shouldn't find him cute!"

But, of course, I still did.

_-Draco-_

"I've got to get out to the fields," Jeremy said.

I nodded and watched him as he walked out. After we'd made enough pancakes for the 'masters,' and I'd finished cleaning the floors, he'd made me pancakes with the extra batter, which I had wolfed down plain. I hadn't had anything to eat since I'd been captured.

Did this old man actually care for me?

He couldn't.

Could he?

Frowning, I stood up from the table and walked out into the living room. I picked a book off the shelf, reading the title. _"A Tale of Two Cities" "Great Expectations" _and _"The Adventures of Tom Sawyer" _were mixed in among many others.

I pulled _"A Tale of Two Cities"_ of the shelf and opened to the first page, scanning the pages. I placed the book on the shelf and turned around. The wild man, Black, was standing only a couple feet behind me, eyes narrow.

"And just what do you think you're doing?"

**Author's Note-** First, I don't like this chapter all that much myself. But I still haven't gotten rid of my writer's block. So I didn't expect it to be very good. Review and tell me what you think about it. Please, no flames, only construction criticism.

Second of all, I keep calling Jeremy old. He's really only in his late thirties, early forties, but life expectancy isn't all that great in this fic, so he's pretty old to Draco.

And finally, I'm sorry I took so long to update. I just got my permit, so I'm learning how to drive, and I'm editing the couple hundred page book my friend and I wrote, so that's taking up a lot of my time. I'd like to say the next chapter will be up soon, but that might not be true. I WILL continue with this fic, I can't stand when people drop their stories, but it might be a while between my updates. So please, bear with me.


	8. Snooping

**Title-**Harry Potter and the Slytherin Slave

**Author-**CarsonLuke

**Rating-**M for swearing, dark themes, and my paranoia.

**Story Summary-** AU. Draco Malfoy was a Prince. Harry was a peasant. What will happen when Draco's country is invaded and he is capture and sold into slavery, only to be bought by none other than Harry himself. How long can he hide his true identity? And what about his growing feelings for his young master? Warning: Slash.

**Chapter Summary-**Draco has an encounter with Sirius. Harry tries to help Draco clean.

**Disclaimer-**The magnificent Draco and the others all belong to JK.

**Chapter Seven-Snooping **

_-Draco-_

My eyes widened as I stared at the wild man. He stood there in black trousers and an old blue shirt, glaring at me.

"Well, boy? What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he growled.

"I-I-I" I stuttered, unable to form the words. Sirius's fists were clenched and he looked genuinely furious. Oh my god. What if he killed me? He looked capable of such a thing! "I'm sorry, I didn't know!"

He took another step towards me. "Why the hell would you think you could just snoop around in my things? You're a _slave _boy!"

I took a step back, running into the bookshelf. I opened my mouth but nothing came out.

"Well?" he demanded.

"Sirius? What are you doing?"

I spun around. Lupin was standing at the base of the stairs, staring at us. Immediately, Sirius turned and faced the graying man. "He was snooping through James's books." I had no idea who James was, but at the moment, I didn't really care.

Lupin stared at his friend for a moment, then at me, then back at Sirius. "It doesn't matter."

Black huffed, then turned around, striding over to the table where he took a seat and glared at his coffee. Lupin studying me for a moment before taking his seat across from him.

I stood by the wall for a second before shakily pushing away from the bookshelf and slowly making my way towards the kitchen.

_-Harry-_

I stumbled down the stairs towards the smell of fresh coffee. I rubbed my eyes wearily, looking around. Sirius was at the table, staring at his coffee. Remus was across from him, sipping a cup of tea. And standing awkwardly off to the side was Caelum. His face was adorably flushed and his pale hair was messy. I smiled. He was so beautiful.

But he was a slave, and there was no way we could ever have a relationship.

Taking a deep breath, I took my seat next to my godfather. "Good morning, Sirius. Good morning, Remus."

Sirius grumbled something into his coffee. Remus set his teacup down and smiled tiredly. "Good morning, Harry."

I smiled back at him, sneaking a glance at Caelum. "Good morning, Caelum," I said timidly. He looked up at me and scowled before turning away.

I played with the hem of my shirt. Why did he hate me so much? I kept trying to be nice and befriend him, but he kept pushing me away and being nasty.

We ate in silence, Caelum not moving from his place by the counters, standing still as a statue. A beautiful statue of a pale angel.

I inwardly slapped myself.

Breakfast was silent, with Sirius trying to bore holes into his food and Remus reading a book. And Caelum never muttered a word, never made a sound. Remus quietly stood up to head out to the fields, Sirius following.

Leaving the pale slave boy and I alone.

I glanced at him just to see him looking back at me. Green eyes met silver, and we had a stare down for a few moments before he broke it by saying, "Well? Are you going to sit there and gawk at me all day like some kind of a mental freak? Because I have a lot of work to do."

Nervously biting my lip, I stood up, taking a step closer to him. Immediately, his eyes narrowed and he took a step back. "What?" he demanded. "What am I doing wrong now?"

"No, you're not doing anything wrong. I just wanted to…Can I help you clean up?" I asked, a timid smile on my face.

My smile was met by a glare. "Go fuck yourself…_Master._" The last part was dripping with sarcasm.

Shocked, I opened my mouth to respond, but I couldn't seem to form the words. I tried to take a step towards him, but tripped over Remus's chair and went toppling to the floor. Before I could make an even bigger foul of myself, I stood up and rushed out of the room.

Nice one, Potter, I chided myself. Now he thinks you're a bloody idiot with no brain.

_-Draco-_

Glaring at my "master's" fleeing back, I sneered. Why couldn't he just leave me alone? Obviously, I didn't want to talk to him. But the stupid Potter boy just kept on stuttering and staring at him with his pretty eyes. Wait. What the hell? Did I just call his eyes pretty?...No. I couldn't have. I hate him, so clearly I don't think he had pretty eyes. And even if I did, it wouldn't matter because I hate everything else about him.

Deciding that was obviously what had happened, I walked over to the washbasin, and stared at my wrists. I wanted to check and see if they were healing, but I was scared to look. Biting my lip, I slowly began to unwrap the bandages. They stuck to the wounds and I had to tug at them. It hurt the hell and I tasted blood. I must have bit my lip so hard I made myself bleed.

Finally, my right wrist was free of the bandages. There was a ton of dried blood, so much I couldn't see the actual cuts. Gritting my teeth, I poured water over my wrist, washing away the blood. Finally, the wounds were visible.

They were thick, ugly lines that wrapping around my wrist, slicing across the tattoo of the Slytherin Crest. I hoped it wouldn't leave permanent damage to the inking.

I wrapped my right wrist back up with the old bandages and began to unwrap the left wrist. I washed it off and inspected to damage. The wounds on this wrist were less severe, but they were still bad.

And my Malfoy Crest was still readable. So I would have to keep the damn bandages on, even though the wounds had stopped bleeding quite a while ago.

Scowling, I bandaged by self back up. The wounds on my feet hurt, bad, but I was much too scared to even touch those.

Wandering out of the kitchen, I began to roam the house. There was very little to it, just an ill-decorated living room. Then I noticed something I hadn't noticed before. Behind the couch, there was a narrow hallway.

I nervously looked around. I didn't want that Black to come in and see me snooping again. Who knows what he would do to me.

Satisfied that no one was around, I slipped around the couch and walked down the hall. In was a short hallway, with three doors. I opened the first to find a washroom. I tried the handle on the second, but it was locked. Frowning, I peered at the door. What were they keeping in there? I would find out. But not now. Black could come back anytime. Quickly, I opened the third and final door.

It was a small room, empty but for one thing.

A large, black grand piano sat in the middle of the room. I slowly made my way towards it, running my hands over the keys. Back in Slytherin, I had learned how to play many instruments, the piano included.

I ran my hand along the top. It was covered in dust; it obviously hadn't been played in a while. Slowly, I sat down on the bench. I blew dust off the keys, sneezing. I positioned my hands over the keys and began to play.

**Author's Note-**Okay, sorry, ending sucks. Please review though.

First off, I'm sorry it took me so long to update. I was camping and I didn't have my laptop. And when I got back, I was busy with learning how to drive a car, and my new moped, and I've been busy with mandatory band camp. We're learning marching band formations. Much harder than it sounds.

Secondly, I start school in approximately a week. It's going to be hectic. I'll have marching band practices, driver's ed, a babysitting job, and I have to work out after school because I had to drop P.E. because my schedule was so full. And I'll have a ton of homework. So for the next few months, updates are going to come a lot less often.


	9. Chicken

**Title-**Harry Potter and the Slytherin Slave

**Author-**CarsonLuke

**Rating-**M for swearing, dark themes, and my paranoia.

**Story Summary-** AU. Draco Malfoy was a Prince. Harry was a peasant. What will happen when Draco's country is invaded and he is capture and sold into slavery, only to be bought by none other than Harry himself. How long can he hide his true identity? And what about his growing feelings for his young master? Warning: Slash.

**Chapter Summary-**Draco and Harry have a real conversation.

**Author's Note-**Dear god, it's been forever since I've updated! Very, very sorry, will explain in the Author's Note at the bottom

**Disclaimer-**The magnificent Draco and the others all belong to JK.

Chapter Eight-Chicken

-_Harry-_

I stepped inside, out of the heat. Instantly, I heard the sound of piano music. It was a soft, sweet tune. Remus used to play for me all the time, but he hadn't done so in years. And it definitely wasn't Sirius-he couldn't hum a tune correctly. And the music was very good. Most people didn't know how to play, mainly the rich and the royal, and the few peasants lucky enough to learn.

Curious, I started down the hall, peeking in the music room as not to disturb whoever was playing.

To my surprise, I found Caelum sitting at the dusty black instrument. He had his back to me, but I could see his thin fingers running across the keys.

"What are you playing?" I asked.

He jumped, startled, a horrid clash ringing out from the piano. He turned to me, his grey eyes narrow.

"It's very good," I added. At the compliment, his eyes softened, and he actually smiled a bit. "Where did you learn to play?"

"My mother taught me," he answered. "When I was a child, she would play for me all the time."

I smiled. He was actually talking to me instead of sneering and insulting me! This was progress! I stared at him. He was so beautiful with his pale hair and his stone colored eyes and his slightly flushed face. "Could you play something for me?" I asked timidly.

"No."

I frowned. Way to go, Harry. You finally get him to talk to you and you just have to go and ruin it. Now he hates you again. "Please?"

"No. Leave me alone. I have to go make your stupid lunch."

_-Draco-_

I left the stuttering raven haired boy in the music room and started towards the dreaded kitchen. What was I going to do? I couldn't even make pancakes and this time, I didn't have Jeremy here to help me. And to make things even worse than they already were, stupid Potter would undoubtfully be watching me. I was going to make a fool out of myself.

I tucked my hands to the pockets of my flimsy peasant pants. There was a hole in one of them. I'd refused to change into the red and gold Gryffindor colors, so I was still in the clothes Blaise had given me. Admittedly, they were beginning to stink.

I hated smelling. But I hated Gryffindor colors way more. They clashed horribly, and I looked terrible in red.

I could feel Potter staring at me, and the hair on the back of my neck was beginning to stand up. To make myself look less stupid, I got the frying pan out and turned the gas stove on. Frowning, I debated what to do next.

What did I cook them? What if they didn't like what I made? What if I couldn't even make it? In fact, I _knew _I wouldn't be able to make it.

I found some raw chicken and decided to try that.

I nearly vomited when I had to touch it. It was cold and slimy and gross.

Gingerly, I put it in the pan and turned the burner on. The easy stuff was over with. Now came the hard part.

_-Harry-_

I watched Caelum try to make dinner. It was obvious he had no idea what he was doing. He'd been disgusted by touching the raw chicken, and he was staring blankly at the pan.

"You forgot to grease the pan," I pointed out.

He glanced over at me. "What?" he asked in his silky smooth voice.

God he was cute. No. Bad Harry. Don't think things like that. "You forgot to grease the pan. You need to put butter in the pan so the chicken doesn't stick," I told him.

"Oh. Yah. I forgot." He picked up the butter and stared at it.

"I can help you," I offered.

He sighed loudly. "Fine." It was obvious he didn't want me to help him. Smiling to myself, I took the chicken out of the pan and rubbed the butter on it.

_-Draco-_

I watched Harry as he made the meal. I hated having to admit I couldn't do something, but I was too scared about what Sirius would do if I didn't make the supper. So, grudgingly, I had accepted his offer.

But why was he helping me? He had no reason to. He had more reason to hate me than to help me. It was so infuriating.

I bustled about the kitchen, pretending to be doing something as he made the chicken. We didn't talk the whole time, not once. When it was done, I turned to him, not meeting his eyes. Looking at his nose, I muttered, "Thanks."

Slowly, a wide smile slid across his face. I made the mistake of glancing up into his breathtakingly green bespectacled eyes. "Anytime."

And then he turned and walked out of the kitchen.

**Author' Note-**God that took a long time to update! Sorry about all that. I started my freshman year of high school in the brand new school building, which does not yet have lockers installed. So we're carrying everything around with us. I would have updated sooner, but I have a ton of homework, and every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, we have marching band practice at 7:15 AM .

And I would have updated this weekend, but we had a parade to march in and our first football game, so we had to march in the half time show. We played DCG and won . I hate them so much. They're so rude. We have an 11th grader that goes to my school and he's gay and a flag twirler, and the DCG boys kept yelling insults at him. I was infuriated. He is so funny, and I was so pissed about some of the things they were saying to him. I can't believe people are that mean to him just because he likes boys.

Anyways, sorry for the rant. I should have updated sooner, it's been like a month, but I was too busy . I'll try harder next time. Please review.


	10. Oblivion

**Title-**Harry Potter and the Slytherin Slave

**Author-**CarsonLuke

**Rating-**M for swearing, dark themes, and my paranoia.

**Story Summary-** AU. Draco Malfoy was a Prince. Harry was a peasant. What will happen when Draco's country is invaded and he is capture and sold into slavery, only to be bought by none other than Harry himself. How long can he hide his true identity? And what about his growing feelings for his young master? Warning: Slash.

**Chapter Summary-**A fight between Harry and Draco spirals out of control.

**Disclaimer-**The magnificent Draco and the others all belong to JK.

**Chapter Nine-Oblivion **

_-Draco-_

I stood off to the side, watching the Potter/Lupin/Black family eat dinner. I wasn't allowed to eat until they were done. Every so often, Black would glance up at me, as to make sure I wasn't going to try anything. What did he expect me to do? Kill him with a butter knife?

Potter looked up at me, the chicken he had made on his plate. I sneered at him. He returned his attention back to his food. I hope he doesn't think that just because I let him help me doesn't mean we're friends. Because I hate him.

"This is very good, Caelum," Remus said, staring intensely at me. "Where did you learn to cook?"

"My mother taught me," I lied. "It's a rather easy recipe." I saw Potter's jaw drop. I was just _waiting_ for him to say something, to tell them all how much of a failure I was.

But he never did. Instead, he just shot me a glare before looking away.

_-Harry-_

I couldn't believe he'd taken all the credit for _my_ meal! I'd helped him, out of the goodness of my heart, and this is how he repays me? Fucking Slytherin!

I didn't eat any more of my dinner. I just sat and fumed. No one spoke.

After a while, Remus got up and left the room, followed by Sirius. The minute they were gone, I shoved my chair back and turned to face Caelum.

"What was that?" I demanded.

"What was what?" he asked innocently, tucking a strand of his pale hair behind his ear.

"'My mother taught me'," I hissed. "'It's a rather easy recipe'."

He smirked. He knew _exactly _what I was talking about. "You never said you wanted any recognition, _Potter_. If you wanted it, you should have told me."

"You're such a bitch, Caelum," I growled.

Sirius rounded the corner into the kitchen. He was a ways behind Caelum, and the young Slytherin was oblivious.

"At least _I'm _not a _Gryffindor_."

"At least _I'm _not a _slave._"

His eyes narrowed and his clenched his fist. Then he raised his hand and slapped me across the cheek.

Hard.

_-Draco-_

Potter inhaled sharply. He raised his hand and gingerly touched his red cheek, a shocked look on his face.

For one brief, brief moment, I was ecstatic. Then someone was grabbing me and spinning me around. Sirius Black gripped the collar of my dirty shirt, a murderous look in his eyes. I had a split second to realize how big of a mistake I had just mad. I felt his knuckles connect with my jaw, snapping my head to the side. A sharp pain stabbed through me and I tasted blood.

I staggered backwards, tripping over the chair. A plate fell to the ground, shattering. I fell to the ground. He towered over me, fists clenched.

"How dare you hit Harry!" he bellowed. "I should kill you for this, boy! You are a _slave!_ You do not hit your owner! That's a crime punishable by death!"

He kicked me, hard, in the ribs.

I gasped in pain. He's really going to do it. He's going to kill me.

_-Harry-_

I stood by the counter, eyes wide. Caelum was on the floor, blood trickling out of the corner of his mouth. Sirius was over him, looking homicidal. The pale haired boy looked terrified.

Oh my god. He's going to die.

"You are a slave!" Sirius screamed again. "Law says I can kill you for this!"

"I'm sorry!" Caelum cried. "I'm sorry!"

"I don't fucking care! You're nothing, you little bitch! Nothing!" He kicked him again, this time in the leg. Sirius was going to kick him again, then Remus was there, yelling. He dragged Sirius away from Caelum, over to the other side of the kitchen.

"Caelum…" I whispered.

The Slytherin looked up at me, pure hatred in his grey eyes. He scrambled up and ran towards the door. He flung it open and dashed outside, the door slamming shut behind him.

_-Draco-_

I stumbled across the yard, towards the barn. I made it inside the small red building before the tears came. I collapsed against the wall of one of the horse stalls and slid to the ground, sitting in a pile of hay. I wrapped my arms around my legs and slid and cried. My whole body was shaking with the force of my tears.

He'd almost killed me. All because I'd slapped Harry. Because Harry was my master. Because that's what you did to slaves that disrespected their masters. You killed them.

I stayed there, curled up in the hay, for hours. No one came looking for me, not once. They didn't care. Why would they? I was just a slave. If I died, they could just go get a new one.

I sniffled. I needed something special right now. Shakily I stood up and wiped the tears out of my eyes. I walked out of the barn and across the yard, the long grass tickling my ankles.

My jaw ached, my ribs throbbed, the wounds on my feet killed, and my wrists stung.

I opened the door to the little house quietly, peering in. It was dark, not a soul to be found anywhere. I crept into the kitchen and opened the last cabinet on the left.

Inside were bottles of Butterbeer, but I quickly passed by those, looking for something stronger. I found what I was searching for soon enough. My hand closed around a bottle of Firewhiskey. I snatched, closed the cabinet, and hurried out of the house.

I raced back to the barn, ignoring the pain that shot up my legs. I threw open the door to the barn and hurried down the center aisle. A tall, gray horse-the one Potter had ridden on the trip back from the capital of Gryffindor-snorted and stomped in its stall. It nudged me with its soft nose. I sat down in a pile of hay outside its stall and opened up the bottle.

I sighed, raised it to my lips, and tipped my head back.

The Firewhiskey burned as it went down my throat. I coughed a bit, then took another sip, drinking myself into oblivion.

**Author's Note-**So I'm not very good at fight scenes, generally. How was this one? Was it good? Was it shit? Please review and tell me!

Once again, sorry for the long wait. But I have bad news. My busy schedule just got a lot busier. Driver's Ed starts on Monday and I'm helping teach an art class on Saturdays. Also, my friend and I volunteered to coach a little kid soccer team because the original coach dropped out, so now I'm busy with those practices and games to. Literally the only day I _don't _have something going on is Tuesdays. Not to mention homework. The updates are going to come even less often.

But, on the bright side, we got lockers installed at my school. I'm a fourteen year old that weighs 107 pounds and my book bag legitly weighed nearly half of my weight.


	11. Hangover

**Title-**Harry Potter and the Slytherin Slave

**Author-**CarsonLuke

**Rating-**M for swearing, dark themes, and my paranoia.

**Story Summary-** AU. Draco Malfoy was a Prince. Harry was a peasant. What will happen when Draco's country is invaded and he is capture and sold into slavery, only to be bought by none other than Harry himself. How long can he hide his true identity? And what about his growing feelings for his young master? Warning: Slash.

**Chapter Summary-**Harry finds Draco passed out in the barn and Draco has an…interesting dream.

**Disclaimer-**If I owned Harry Potter, I wouldn't be writing Fanfiction about it.

**Chapter Ten-Hangover**

-_Harry -_

I stared out the window, gingerly touching my stinging cheek. I couldn't believe the little brat had slapped me! Granted, what I'd said hadn't been very nice, but he'd started it!

Remus had taken Sirius upstairs to talk and neither of them had come back down. Caelum hadn't returned either. He'd run out of the house nearly half an hour ago. He'd probably come crawling back within the hour.

Two hours later, the blonde was still missing and I was beginning to get slightly worried. Okay, slightly was an understatement. The farm was surrounded by dense wood-woods in which wolf packs lived.

Glancing up the stairs to make sure Sirius and Remus weren't anywhere in sight, I slipped on my coat and quietly opened the door. I took extra care to make sure the door didn't slam and I didn't step on the creaky boards in the porch. Once I reached the grass, I took off at a run. First I checked the tool shed, but that was empty except for tools.

I wasn't sure why I was so worried about the Slytherin. He hated me; he'd made that clear enough. But was it possible that I didn't hate him?

Pushing those thoughts out of my head, I scanned all the nearby buildings, my eyes coming to rest on the barn. The door was slightly ajar. I was _sure _I'd closed that. I jogged towards the structure and flung the door open, immediately being greeted by the smell of hay, horses, and…something else. Something strong.

My horse whinnied, but I didn't stop to pet her. I could hardly see in the darkness; my only light was the faint glow of the moon seeping in through the open door. I could just barely make out something lying in a pile of hay near the back. Rushing over, I found Caelum, curled up in a ball, asleep. The strange smell was stronger over here. I kneeled down beside him, about to shake him awake when I noticed that he was cradling something against his chest. Gently, I peeled it out of his hands. It was a bottle a Firewhiskey, three fourth of the way gone.

"Shit," I whispered. He's fucking passed out because he drank Sirius's Firewhiskey.

I threw the bottle into the back of the barn, where it smashed. I'd half to clean that up sometime. I picked Caelum up bridle style. He was a lot lighter than I'd expected. He buried his head against my chest, his arm dangling limply. I gagged slightly. He reeked of alcohol.

I hurriedly made my way back across the yard, balancing his weight on my thigh to open the door. I carried him up the stairs, silently passing Remus's room. I quickly debated on where to take him before deciding I couldn't let Jeremy see him. I pushed open the door to my bedroom, closing it behind me.

Gently, I laid the fragile blonde boy down on my bed. I walked into my private bathroom, wetting down a rag. I used it to wipe the blood off of his face, along with dried tears and spilled alcohol.

He looked so peaceful when he was sleeping. The smirk was gone, making his face seem softer, less angular. Cautiously, I ran my finger across his bottom lip. I was slightly swollen and puffy.

Sighing, I pulled my desk chair over next to the bed.

Why was I helping him?

He's just slapped me for god's sake.

_-Draco-_

I moaned loudly as Harry kissed me. I ran my hands through his hair, trying to get a better angle. He pulled away, trailing open-mouthed kisses down my neck, stopping to suck on the spot right below my ear. I groaned loudly, arching my back. He trailed his hands down my sides, tugging my shirt up. He ran his hands over my chest, his thumb brushing roughly over my nipple, causing me to hiss. He smiled at me and kissed me softly. I nipped at his ear, tugging on his messy ebony locks. I tried to roll us over and switch positions, put he held me firmly in place as he straddled my hips. He pulled my shirt over my head and showered me with kisses, little red marks left where he'd used teeth. He tugged my pants down roughly and-

I shot up, but the action caused me to moan loudly and fall back down. My head was pounding viciously. I'd drank way too much Firewhiskey.

But that didn't matter right now. Had I really just dreamed about kissing Potter? And not just that, but we had been about to fucking have sex! And I'd been complying!

My head hurt too badly to think right now. I would just go back to bed and pretend it never happen.

I nuzzled into the pillow.

Wait. I'd passed out in the barn. There weren't pillows in the barn.

My eyes shot open. The dull light of the candles hurt my head more, but I tried to ignore that as I looked around.

There was a small bookshelf, a dresser, and a desk. On the desk was a picture of a young Potter in between Black and a less-gray Remus. This was Potter's room.

I was in Potter's room, in Potter's bed, and Potter himself was sitting in a chair next to the bed, watching me. His check was red from me hitting him. That brought me great satisfaction.

Green eyes met silver and we had an intense stare down for a couple seconds.

I'd just had a dream about kissing him. I looked at his lips. To my dismay, I realized I was getting hard.

What the fuck is wrong with me? I thought.

"Good morning sleeping beauty," he murmured.

I opened my mouth to give him a smart ass remark and puked all over his lap.

**Author's Note**-It's been like a month since I updated! I'm so so sorry! I've been so busy and I've had writer's block. But you don't want to hear my excuses, do you? I didn't think so. The next update shouldn't take _nearly_ as long! Please continue to review, though. They inspire me!

I wrote a little oneshot called _If I Can't Have Him_ to conquer my writer's block. It's kind of morbid, but check it out if you want. Review that one too.

I have bad news as well. I've had back pain for a long time so my mom finally took me to the chiropractor. Turns out I have scoliosis. But they think they caught it early enough to reverse it.

Anyways, review to tell me what you thought. Or PM me if you just wanna talk!


	12. Cold Tiles

**Title-**Harry Potter and the Slytherin Slave

**Author-**CarsonLuke

**Rating-**M for swearing, dark themes, and my paranoia.

**Story Summary-** AU. Draco Malfoy was a Prince. Harry was a peasant. What will happen when Draco's country is invaded and he is capture and sold into slavery, only to be bought by none other than Harry himself. How long can he hide his true identity? And what about his growing feelings for his young master? Warning: Slash.

**Chapter Summary-**Draco deals with his hangover and Harry washes his pants.

**Disclaimer-**If I owned Harry Potter, I wouldn't be writing Fanfiction about it.

Chapter Eleven-Cold Tiles

_-Draco-_

I stared at Harry, wide-eyed. He wasn't looking at me-he was simply staring down at his vomit covered lap, looking slightly green. I'd had a dream about kissing him. Then I'd puked on him. Way to go, dumbass.

"I'm sorry," I said softly, propping myself up on my elbows. My head was pounding, and I was having trouble keeping my eyes open, but I felt the need to apologize to him. I mean, I had just emptied my stomach on his lap.

"It's fine," he muttered. "Let's get you to the bathroom before you puke on something else." He stood up and stripped his dirtied pants off.

He had Gryffindor boxers.

Fucking Gryffindor boxers.

All Red and yellow with little Gryffindor crests.

And, underneath the hideous undergarment, he had a really nice ass.

I actually slapped myself for thinking that.

He looked at me funny and raised his eyebrows. He rolled his pants up and tugged on a different pair. "Something wrong, Caelum?" he asked.

"Just mortified by your horrid taste in colors," I choked out, my face reddening. He shrugged and walked over towards me. His black hair was ruffled and he was looking rather cute, despite the slight greenish tint to his face.

"I'll help you up." He awkwardly reached down and lifted me into a sitting position by my arms. I slumped back onto the bed, moaning.

"My head," I groaned.

"Can you walk to the bathroom?" he asked.

"No I can't fucking walk to the bathroom!" I snapped, massaging my temples. "I can't even stand!"

"Oh, um, I guess I can carry you."

Before I could even register what he had said, he had lifted me off the bed and was carrying me bridal style. He had one arm under my knees, the other supporting my back. My aching head fell against his chest, and I could feel his heart beating rapidly. He used his foot to push open the door. The bathroom was at the end of the hall and, once inside, he set me down next to the toilet.

"Potter," I said. "If you ever try and carry me again, I will cut you into tiny little pieces and feed you to your horse."

He stared at me in shock, before slowly taking a step back. "I'm, uh, just going to, uh, wash my pants."

"Good." The minute he was out of the room, I collapsed onto the floor, moaning. My head felt like someone was taking a sledgehammer to it. And it wasn't helping trying to think about all these contradicting feelings regarding Potter. I pressed my head against the tile floor, relieved by the cool temperature.

_-Harry-_

I stood in the washroom, scrubbing at my pants.

Caelum had looked so cute in my arms, with his hair splayed across his face. He'd rested his head against my chest and I thought maybe, just maybe. Then he told me he would cut me up and feed my to the horses.

I wasn't quite sure what to think about him. Sometimes he was so sweet and nice. Then other times he was just a stuck up prat. But one thing for sure; he was beautiful.

_-Draco-_

The tiles weren't doing me much good anymore, and my head ache had turned from a sledgehammer to a wrecking ball. And my mouth tasted foul. Very slowly, gripping the edge of the bathtub, I managed to pull myself into a sitting position. I had to stop and take a moment to calm my headache. Realizing that I wasn't ever going to be able to stand, I turned on the tub facet and stuck my head under. The cold water hit my face and I opened my mouth, taking a large gulp. Spitting the water back into the tub, I managed to turn the tub back off.

I really needed some sleep.

With no other means of getting back to the bedroom, I got down on my hands and knees and crawled, leaning on the wall for support. I was extremely ashamed of my actions-I was the Prince of Slytherin for god's sake, not a fucking dog!

The slave quarters were farther away and I was ready to die, so I made my way into Harry's bedroom. I somehow pulled myself onto the bed and collapsed.

Panting, my hair plastered to my face in a mixture of sweat and water, I nuzzled into the pillows that smelled like him and fell into a deep sleep.

_-Harry-_

I bumped the door to Remus's room open and crept inside. "Remus," I whispered, nudging his sleeping figure. "Remus, wake up."

"What?" he mumbled in a sleep coated voice. "Harry? What are you doing?" He fumbled around, grabbing a pair of aging glasses and putting them on, blinking.

"I found Caelum," I told him, still whispering for some reason.

"Good, good," he muttered. "Where was he?"

"In the barn. I don't know why," I quickly added. "But I got him to come back inside."

"Very well then. I'm sorry about Sirius, we talked and he shouldn't do it again. Goodnight Harry." He was already laying back down by the time he had uttered the last part.

"Goodnight Moony," I said, using the nickname I had given him when I was little.

"Oh, and Harry," he said.

"Yah, Moony?"

"Take a bath; you smell."

I didn't respond, simply closed his door and snuck back down the hall towards my room. I opened the door to find Caelum asleep in my bed. He was curled up on his side, his hair wet, his face nuzzled into all my blankets. Smiling, I sat down in my big, overstuffed chair next to him.

I had a huge urge to lean in and lightly kiss him.

But, of course, I didn't.

Sighing, I sprawled out in my chair to dream of gray eyed Slytherins.

**Author's Note-**I so lied last time when I told you it wouldn't take very long for me to update. I didn't think it would, honestly. I just got so caught up in other things like school and, to tell you the truth, I was too lazy to work on an update. Review and hopefully I'll start working on the next chapter sooner.

Anyways, me and my friend finished the rough draft of the fourth book in our series. Yay! Now we're working on the plot of out fifth, and I'm soooo excited because my favorite character ever comes in in this book. He's so gay, and he's amazing!

My last driver's Ed class is on Monday and I can't wait for it to be over. My instructor is the devil reincarnate. Seriously.

A really awesome thing happened to one of my guy friends. He was having a really bad day because he had staph infection and wrestling is his life, and now he can't wrestle for a while. He went to Wal-Mart with his step mom to buy more bandages and he ran into his biological mother, who he hasn't seen for eight years. When he was around seven, he got taken away from his mom by social security, but she recognized him, and they talked and she apologized for being a bad mom. I almost cried when he told me. And to think that this all happened at Wal-Mart.


	13. Bath Time

**Title-**Harry Potter and the Slytherin Slave

**Author-**CarsonLuke

**Rating-**M for swearing, dark themes, and my paranoia.

**Story Summary-** AU. Draco Malfoy was a Prince. Harry was a peasant. What will happen when Draco's country is invaded and he is capture and sold into slavery, only to be bought by none other than Harry himself. How long can he hide his true identity? And what about his growing feelings for his young master? Warning: Slash.

**Chapter Summary-**Draco cleans himself up and Harry makes breakfast.

**Disclaimer-**If I owned Harry Potter, I wouldn't be writing Fanfiction about it.

Chapter Twelve-Bath Time

_~Draco~_

I yawned and stretched out, my eyes still closed. My ungodly hangover was gone and I was now realizing the full extent of my actions. I had slapped my 'master'. I had stolen a bottle of Firewhiskey and gotten drunk off my ass. And Potter, of all people, had been taking care of me.

The mere thought had me letting out a furious, low growl. Horrified at my actions, I threw back the covers that were practically burying me and found myself face to face with Potter.

"Morning," he said, giving me a slow smile, like we were friends or something.

I sneered at him. For the second time today, I was finding myself in Potter's bed. "Potter." I, I realized, was beginning to smell. I had been wearing the same outfit for days-the one Blaise had given me. And heaven knows it hadn't been clean then. Now…now it was just gross.

As if he'd read my mind, Potter said "You can borrow a pair of my clothes to wear. You need to change. You also might want to bathe." He stood up and walked over to a large, old wardrobe that was stained and scratched and opened it. He pulled out a pair of black trousers and a-fuck-red and gold Gryffindor shirt. I mentally retched. The colors were obscenely horrible and would do nothing for my complexion. Damn you Gryffindors. Damn you.

Angrily, I snatched the clothes out of Potter's hands and marched towards the door.

"Wait!" he called. I turned my glare on him and huffed, raising my eyebrow. "Don't you, ugh…need a fresh pair of…boxers?" His face was nearly the color of the shirt I was borrowing. He held out a pair of boxers. I ripped them from his grip and stormed into the bathroom.

It wasn't as heavenly as it had been in my hangover state. The white tiles were discolored, stained, and cracked, the bathtub was a hideous claw foot thing with lots of chips, and the paint on the walls was peeling.

Raising my nose in disdain, I turned on the water. I peeled my dirty, foul smelling shirt off and threw it on the ground. I slipped the ripped trousers over my hips. I studied myself in the cracked mirror above the dirty sink. I had always been thin. I had been lighter than some girls in Slytherin. Now I was on the verge of unhealthy. There were big bruises on my face, under my eye, and I had a split lip. My collar bone jutted out.

I slowly began to unwrap the bandages around my wrists. The wounds had closed up and were going to be healed soon. Shit. What the hell was I supposed to do about my tattoos? I didn't have a way to cover them up without being suspicious anymore.

Pondering this, I sat down on the cold floor, unwrapping the wraps on my feet. They didn't hurt very bad anymore, and they had scabbed over. Unlike my wrists, I was ready for these to heal.

Looking at myself in the mirror again, my cuts exposed, I looked like a sick, abused pauper.

Snarling, I walked over to the steaming bath and lowered myself in. I hissed as water touched my wounds. Snatching soap off the rim, I began to scrub at my skin mercilessly. I wasn't happy with my body. I had always regarded myself as beautiful, hot, sexy. Now I just looked…bad. Sick. _Weak._

Skin red and stinging, I climbed out of the tub. I looked around for a towel. Nothing. I looked under the sink. Again, nothing. Shit.

I cracked the door open a bit. "Potter!" I hissed. No response. "Potter!" I said a little bit louder.

Fucking Gryffindors.

~_Harry~_

I heard Caelum calling me and poked my head out into the hallway. I didn't want him to wake up Sirius or Remus. "What, Caelum?" I asked. The bathroom door was cracked open and a wave of steam was drifting out.

"I'm naked and wet and I don't have a bloody towel!" I hissed.

I gaped at the door for a moment then snapped back into reality and leaped up, grabbing a towel from the hall closet. I stood by the doorway, offering it to him. The thought of him naked, right there, was…appallingly exciting.

His hand snaked out and grabbed the towel from me. As he yanked it back through the narrow crack, I thought I was a hint of black ink on Caelum's wrist.

_~Draco~_

I slammed the door and dried myself off on the towel, shivering. It had gotten quite cold in here. I pulled the boxers on-thankfully they weren't Gryffindor colored ones-and felt very awkward. I was wearing _Potter's _boxers. _Potter_ had worn these. Potter's cock had been here.

Strangely, I wasn't grossed out by the thought. In fact, I was weirdly turned on.

Hormones, I thought. Just teenage guy hormones.

I pulled the itchy black pants on. They were too big and I had to fight to keep them on my tiny frame. Shuddering, I picked up the hideous shirt. Just until your clothes are clean, I told myself. Then you can change back. Grimacing, I pulled the shirt over my head. The colors were awful, and they made my bruises look even worse.

I threw the towel on the floor, even though I would most likely end up having to clean it up. I scooped up my dirty bundle and marched to my room. Jeremy was there, straightening up his bed. He smiled at me. "Good morning, Caelum. Where were you last night?"

"None of your bloody business," I snapped, throwing my clothes in the hamper and stomping downstairs.

_~Harry~_

I was making eggs when Caelum stormed down the stairs. My clothes were too big on him and practically swallowed him whole. I was taller and more muscular then he, and the clothes just made his skinniness more obvious. His hair was still wet and he looked flushed. His wrists were wrapped up, making me wonder if I had just imagined seeing something or not. He was barefoot, except for the bandages. The pants dragged on the floor.

"Do you want eggs?" I asked.

"No," was his immediate reply.

"You need to eat something," I argued.

He shrugged. "You need to get a life."

I had no reply for that, so I simply turned back to my eggs. Despite his protests, I dished him up a plate, smiling as he dug in. He must have been really hungry. Watching him, I was struck with a strange urge.

I really wanted to kiss him.

**Author's Note-**Yay! New chapter! Sorry if I never replied to any of your reviews. My email is a bitch and will only let me reply to half of the reviews. For the other half it just says 'Cannot find .' Please review this chapter. It will make me very happy. Do you know how infuriating it is to have nearly 21,000 hits and only 88 reviews?

I took semester tests for the first time today. Boring as hell. I have three more tomorrow, then I'm done for the semester! My school has an open campus policy so we can leave if we don't have tests, but sadly I cannot drive yet legally, so I had to stay But it turned out good for you guys cuz I brought my laptop and worked on this update.

I currently have a new music obsession-Black Veil Brides. The Mortician's Daughter is my favorite. However, Tokio Hotel is still my favorite band of all time.

I've been thinking about including a little Sirius and Remus slash in this or doing a oneshot or a little series on them. What do you guys think? I also have another fic idea in my mind right now and might begin writing that too.

Merry Christmas!


	14. Just a Kiss

**Title-**Harry Potter and the Slytherin Slave

**Author-**CarsonLuke

**Rating-**M for swearing, dark themes, and my paranoia.

**Story Summary-** AU. Draco Malfoy was a Prince. Harry was a peasant. What will happen when Draco's country is invaded and he is capture and sold into slavery, only to be bought by none other than Harry himself. How long can he hide his true identity? And what about his growing feelings for his young master? Warning: Slash.

**Chapter Summary-**

**Disclaimer-**If I owned Harry Potter, I wouldn't be writing Fanfiction about it.

**Chapter Thirteen-Just a Kiss**

_~Harry~ _

I stared at Caelum. He was swiping his blonde hair out of his eyes, staring down at his plate. He had already finished all of his eggs. Now he was slowly pushing a piece of bacon around on his plate. He let out a loud, annoyed breath. I chuckled softly.

He glared at me, scowling. "What,_ Potter?_"

I shook my head. "Nothing. Nothing at all."

His gray eyes narrowed but he didn't say anything. He turned his attention back to the slightly burnt piece of bacon. He carefully tore the bacon into tiny pieces, littering his plate with them. He pushed his hair out of his face, not meeting my eyes. He was so beautiful. I smiled softly. My clothes were way too big on him, but he was still adorable. Even with the big bruise marring his face.

He stood up, picking up his plate and walking it over to the sink filled with soapy water. He plunged it in, dutifully cleaning the breakfast dishes. I carried mine over to the sink, washing it alongside him. The sink area was small and my hip brushed against his. He smelled like vanilla. He looked up at me, opening his mouth to say something and I just lost it.

I leaned down and kissed him.

He tasted like eggs, but I didn't care. His lips were soft under mine. His whole body was stiff and tense but that didn't matter. He wasn't shoving me away. I ran my tongue over his lips, tugging on his bottom lip with my teeth. He made a low noise, in the back of his throat, almost like a purr, that had my knees almost giving way. I bit down a little harder and he opened his mouth, giving me access. My tongue tangled with his, my hands brushing his sides.

I pulled away, breathing deeply. He stared at me, taking a step back. His face was flushed, but he didn't say anything.

I nearly had a heart attack when Remus walked into the kitchen. I'd been so focused on Caelum that I hadn't even noticed him. The chair scraped against the floor as he sat down. "Good morning, Harry. Caelum."

"Morning Remus," I said, trying to keep my voice level. "Do you want eggs?"

"No thank you, Harry." He sipped a glass of water. He looked tired and tense. Something with Sirius, no doubt. My godfather was such a pain in the ass sometimes. "Harvest time is coming up. We'll need your help in the fields, Caelum." The blonde looked absolutely horrified about this, but didn't say anything.

Remus finished his glass of water and deposited the cup in the sink. He gave me a weary look. "I'm going to go wake your godfather up." He glanced at Caelum. "Perhaps you should take him outside and teach him how to harvest."

Caelum raised his nose, glaring at Remus's retreating back. "I will learn no such thing," he declared, pouting.

I stared at his soft pink lips for a moment, mesmerized, before snapping my attention back to his adorable, bruised face. Bloody hell, he was gorgeous.

He turned to the sink and pulled his sleeves up, sour expression plastered on his face. He gingerly stuck his hands in the water, scrubbing the dishes.

"Look who's finally learning his place."

My stomach dropped. I turned around slowly. My godfather was leaning on the wall, his black curls wild and his clothes rumpled. He had a smirk on his face as he watched the Slytherin, who, of course, couldn't just ignore Sirius. No. He had to _do_ something about it.

Caelum, who had been holding a plate, dropped it. The glass shattered into a million pieces the minute it hit the floor. Remus winced. There was a moment of silence in the kitchen before everything went to hell.

"You little ungrateful bitch!" Sirius hissed. Caelum stared at him, stone gray eyes unmoving. "Pick it _up._"

He blinked once. "No."

Sirius crossed the kitchen in a flash, grabbing the blonde by the collar of his shirt. Remus started to say something, but before he could finish, I was pushing my godfather's hand away from Caelum, knocking him back a step. "Don't," I said, my voice deathly low. "Leave him alone."

He stared at me, as if he couldn't figure out what was going on. "Harry," he began.

"Shut up. Just shut up." I grabbed Caelum by the arm, dragging him outside.

_~Draco~_

I hurried to keep up with Potter's pace, his death grip on my arm aching. He dragged me out to the barn, pushing me inside. I stumbled a bit, but didn't fall. Potter leaned against the wall, taking multiple deep breaths.

"What the hell, Potter?" I yelled. "I don't need a fucking savior!" Who did he think he was, kissing me then forcing me to come along with him? I'm the goddamned Prince of Slytherin!

"Yes you do and you know it!" he shouted, his green eyes burning with rage. "If I hadn't stepped in he would have kicked your skinny ass! Of course you couldn't just ignore him! No, you had to piss him off even _more!_"

I gaped at him. This was in no way my fault! Black was an uncontrollable maniac! "I was standing up for myself! I have rights! I am a person, not a piece of property!"

"You're a _slave!_"

_~Harry~_

I regretted it the minute I said it. Caelum gawked at me, his mouth an 'o'. Slowly, big fat tears began to well up in his gray eyes. "I didn't mean that," I said quickly, stepping towards him. He moved away from me, the tears beginning to flow.

"I know exactly what you meant," he murmured. "I'm just a piece of property to you. Something you can knock around or kiss whenever the hell you feel like." He sniffed, still backing away. "Well, I'm _not_ just a piece of property, Potter. I have _feeling_."

"I know, Caelum. I'm sorry I didn't mean what I said, it just slipped out," I apologized, but to no avail.

"And I thought you actually liked me," he whispered, the tears streaming down his face. He turned, pulling the barn doors open and walking out. "I'm not you fucking sex slave, Potter."

**Author's Note-**Well, well, well! They kissed! And fought! And I updated! Yaaaaaay! What'd yah think of my chapter? Please, please review and tell me I have tons of views, but no one ever reviews. It makes me sad.

I have good news and bad news. Good news is that it's snowing! For the first time this winter! We're having some weird weather phenomenon here in Central Iowa. It's January and it's been like forty degrees outside! But it's finally snowing today! YAY! More good news-my guy friend who I have a crush on asked me to my school's winter formal dance! I went dress shopping and I have a really pretty dress and I'm really excited! Me and my date and my best friend and her date are going to have dinner at her house before the dance and it's going to be really fun!

And now that bad news. I live in a small town of only about 2000 to 3000 residents, and this past week we had two murders. A 22 year old woman gave birth in her home and then murdered her two twin girls and hid the bodies in the trunk of her car. And it wasn't a miscarriage or anything; she told the police she never planned for the babies to live. It makes no sense to me why she would just kill the kids. There's so many people who would be willing to take them! We even have a law in Iowa that says you won't be prosecuted if, within 14 days of your unwanted child's birth, you drop them off at a hospital. It makes me so sad!


	15. The Truth Between the Lies

**Title-**Help Me

**Author-**CarsonLuke

**Rating-**M for swearing, dark themes, and my paranoia

**Story Summary-** AU. Draco Malfoy was a Prince. Harry was a peasant. What will happen when Draco's country is invaded and he is capture and sold into slavery, only to be bought by none other than Harry himself. How long can he hide his true identity? And what about his growing feelings for his young master? Warning: Slash.

**Chapter Summary-**Draco tries to find a way to cover up his identity and his tattoos.

**Disclaimer-**The characters belong to J.K., but the plot is mine.

Chapter Fourteen-The Truth Between the Lies

_~Harry~_

The sound of the barn door banging against the old wood of the barn as Caelum stormed out echoed in my ears. How could I have been so stupid? He was maybe possibly sort of kind of beginning to like me, and now I'd ruined it. Why did I have to be such a dumb ass?

I stood there, not the smallest idea what to do. Did I go back inside and try to talk to him? If I did that, I'd probably end up getting something chucked at my head.

My horse whinnied softly. I slowly got up and petted her soft nose. "I don't know what to do either, girl," I murmured, gently robbing her face. She shook her head slightly, her mane swishing about. "I know. He's such a drama queen. I didn't mean it like that. He was throwing a fit, and he just _had _to go and break that plate. He couldn't just ignore Sirius, could he? No. of course not." My horse, Lily, named after my mother, nuzzled her face against my arm. "He has so much…pride, or something. He can't just take it. It's like he thinks he's…some kind of royalty or something. Damn Slytherins."

I guess talking to my horse helped, even if she couldn't talk back, because I suddenly felt better. Smiling slightly, I kissed her nose and walked slowly out of the barn, across the big lawn, to the old house.

_~Draco~_

I stormed into the slave's quarters, because, you know that's what I am to him. His fucking sex slave. I'd be damned if I was his fucking sex slave.

I climbed up onto my bunk and sat down, hard. I wasn't going to do anything today, because I was no one's slave.

I probably laid in my bed, eyes closed, fuming, for about five minutes before the door opened. "What?" I growled. "I'm not doing any fucking work today, so you can make your own god damned breakfast."

"You and Master Harry fight like a married couple."

I opened my eyes and rolled over, looking off the edge of the bunk at Jeremy. "Don't mention his fowl name in my presence."

"Master Harry has eyes for you, Caelum. He is a very nice boy, if you would just give him a chance." Maybe the old slave meant well, but I didn't care.

"I will not_ give _him a _chance!_ He wants to make me his sex slave! I will _not_ lie on my back and take it! I will not be used for his sick pleasure! I'm the fucking Pr-" My eyes went wide and I closed my mouth instantaneously. Holy fuck, I had almost said it. I had almost told my secret. All because I was _angry_ at Potter. I really needed to control my anger, or there was no way I would be able to get out of this mess and find my father. "Slytherin. A fucking Slytherin."

I could tell by the look on Jeremy's face that he wasn't buying my cover up, but he didn't push the matter, just shrugged and walked towards the door. "When your temper tantrum is over, you are welcome to come downstairs."

I snarled at his retreating form. As soon as he was gone, I leaped out of bed, slammed the door, and clicked the lock into place. I ripped my bandages off hastily and inspected my wounds. My wrists were healed, just a small scab on each. My tattoos showed clearly, the green and black ink popping against my pale skin. There was no way I would be able to cover them up for much longer. I could keep the bandages on for a couple more weeks, but after that they would begin to get suspicious. I guess I could say the wounds split open, but how long would that story last? It was only so long before I was forced to take the bandages off. Then they could all see my tattoos, and they would know who I was, and I would be killed.

God damn it, I had to do something. Or I'd die a slave in Gryffindor country.

But what could I possibly do? I could 'get hurt' again, I suppose. But I would have to do something. If I came down to it, would I have the guts to slash my own wrists? Would I be able to hold that knife to my pale skin as the crimson blood rose to the surface?

I flung open the bureau, rummaging through Jeremy's things. I knew he had a small pocket knife hidden in here; I had seen it. There, at the very back of the drawer, I found it. I pulled it out and flipped it open. The blade was dull and chipped. I gulped and pressed it to my fine skin, right in the middle of the Malfoy family crest. I laughed slightly. It was probably illegal in Slytherin to mar the Malfoy crest.

I stared at the blade, dull but potentially deadly, pressed firm against my thin wrist. I gulped. Could I do it? Could I handle the pain? Could I handle the knowledge that I had done that to myself?

I didn't know. But there was only one way to find out.

_~Harry~_

I let the door bang shut behind me as I entered the cozy house. Remus glanced up at me from his spot on the couch, a weary expression on his face. "Your godfather is currently throwing a temper tantrum and is sulking in his room," he told me, rubbing his temples. "And our slave just stormed inside looking very pissed. When I asked him what was wrong, he told me to rot in hell. Somehow I have a feeling you have as much a part in the second incident as you do in the first."

I shrugged slowly, then walked upstairs. So Caelum was just as pissed as I had thought. Maybe even more pissed than I had thought. I trudged up the stairs, down the narrow hallway. I paused in front of the door, hand raised, knowing I would regret this, and pounded on the door.

"Don't come in!" I heard Caelum scream from inside. Ignoring him, I flung open the door to the tiny room. Sitting on the floor in the middle of the room was Caelum. His eyes were wide. The bandages I had become accustomed to seeing on his wrists were lying on the floor. There was a dark green patch on his wrist, a tattoo of some sort. In his right hand, he held a knife.

It was one of those things where one moment you're standing in one spot, and the next you find yourself somewhere else, but you don't really know how you got there. Instead of being in the doorway, I found myself towering over Caelum, yanking the knife out of his bony hands. He wasn't very strong, so it wasn't hard at all. He quickly scooted away from me, clutching his wrist to his chest.

"Let me see that," I demanded, making a grab for him. My hand encircled his thin wrist, pulling it closer to me. What had he done? Had he cut himself? My neighbor, Ron Weasley, had told me about people doing that a few years ago. Had Caelum really been doing that to himself?

"No!" he shrieked, trying to pry away from me. "Let go!" He was kicking me and slapping my arm with his other hand, but to no avail. He was far weaker than I. "Unhand me this instant!"

I wrenched his wrist towards me, finally seeing it. He was still kicking me, but I paid no attention. There was no blood on his wrist. In fact, there was hardly a scar from his wounds. Instead, there was a dark green and black tattoo. It was a crest, with a large 'M' and snakes and dragons encircling it. I stared at it for a moment. I had seen this before.

I dropped his wrist and stared at him. It was the Malfoy family crest. The crest of the Slytherin royal family. Why did Caelum have the royal family's tattoo?

It only took a moment, and then it clicked.

Caelum was a Malfoy. He had to be. Only Malfoy's were allowed to get the royal tattoo. And the Malfoy's all had very blonde hair and fine, pointed, aristocratic features. But Lord Malfoy only had one child, a son, and his name was Devin, or Dragon, or something along those lines.

The blonde was cradling his wrist, fear evident in his eyes. He scooted away from me, as far away from me as he could get. "Please don't kill me." His voice shook with terror.

"You're a Malfoy," I whispered. He was shaking, visibly shaking, with fear. "What's your name? Your real name."

"Draco. Draco Malfoy." He looked me in the eye as he said it. Though his voice was shaking and his body was trembling, it struck as incredibly brave. "Prince of Slytherin." There was pride in his voice as he said it, just a hint of pride.

The Prince of a warring nation was in my house. The prince of Slytherin was our _slave._ I _kissed_ the son of Public Enemy Number One.

"Fuck," I whispered.

**Author's Note**-Finally! Took me forever! I probably rewrote this chapter five times to get it right. But eh, whatever. And my god the secret is OUT! Harry knows Draco's true identity.

And I've been so busy! My winter formal was awesome, and I now have a boyfriend. My date asked me out!:) Yay! My great grandpa died last week:( He was 102, so it was time for him to go to a better place, but it's still very sad.

On a happier note, I got some awesome converse! They're How the Grinch Stole Christmas themed! They're black and they have little presents and stuff all over them! They're awesome! I'm getting another pair that are the Lorax themed sometimes soon as well! And, even awesomer, I painted a pair of my black high tops so they are now Harry Potter themed! I love them to death!

And, best of all, I am currently hand painting a pair of my black high top converse. Guess what the theme is? HARRY POTTER! That's right. You're jealous. They're really, really awesome.

Any who, please review! Thanks!


	16. Confusion

**Title-**Harry Potter and the Slytherin Slave

**Author-**CarsonLuke

**Rating-**M for swearing, dark themes, and my paranoia.

**Story Summary-** AU. Draco Malfoy was a Prince. Harry was a peasant. What will happen when Draco's country is invaded and he is capture and sold into slavery, only to be bought by none other than Harry himself. How long can he hide his true identity? And what about his growing feelings for his young master? Warning: Slash.

**Chapter Summary-**Harry and Draco don't know how to act around each other now and they get in a bit of a fight.

**Disclaimer-**Still haven't acquired Harry Potter :(

Chapter Fifteen-Confusion

_~Harry~_

I stared at him, dumbfounded. What the hell was I supposed to do? I should run. Run and scream and tell Remus. Caelum, no _Draco_, could be spying for his father and the rest of the Slytherins. He could murder us in the middle of the night, then go to Hogsmeade. There he could…he could assassinate King Dumbledore!

But I couldn't. I wanted to turn around and run out of the room and find Remus and tell him. Tell him that the heir to the Slytherin throne is in our house. I _needed _to do that. I _had_ to. But I couldn't. What would happen to him then? We would have to take him to the capitol and turn him in. But then what? He would be hanged.

"Please," he whispered again. He was scared, oh so scared. I stared at him, looking him in his stone colored eyes. I couldn't. I just couldn't. If I told, he would die. And I just couldn't let that happen. I didn't want him to die. Sure, maybe he was a pain in the ass, and stuck up, and annoying, but he didn't deserve to die.

"So let's say for a moment that I don't tell anyone. Then what? We just keep this our secret?" I asked.

He swallowed, hard. "Yes. We just keep this between you and I."

"And you continue being our slave?" I questioned, some doubt slipping into my voice. How could I continue viewing him as a slave now that I knew he was a prince?

His eyes narrowed slightly. "I suppose," he growled.

I was quiet. Could it work? Could things go back to normal now? Could I keep this huge, crushing secret from my family, the people who could read me perfectly? I didn't know, but if it was the only option, I guess I had to try. I didn't hate him. I wanted to, god I wanted to. I wanted to hate him with my entire heart, mind, and sole. Then this would be easy. I would eaily be able to hand him over to die. But I didn't hate him, and I couldn't kill him.

"Fine. I won't tell anyone. But if you try anything, the deal's off," I warned. I offered my hand.

He stood up and gingerly shook it. "I won't try anything."

I nodded, then stood there awkwardly. What did I do now? Did I talk to him, or did I turn around and just leave?

"How did you get in?" Draco asked. "I locked the door."

"The lock doesn't work. Sirius broke it so none of our slaves could lock themselves in." He nodded and we lapsed into an awkward silence once again. "I…I need to think." I turned around and walked quickly out of the room, shutting the door behind me. I didn't _think_ he was capable of murdering us, but how would I know? A horrid sense of dread has settled over me and I felt sick. What if I had just made the worst mistake of my life?

What if I had just signed my-and Remus's, and Sirius's-death warrants?

_~Draco~_

I sat there in shook, for nearly five minutes. He wasn't going to tell. He wasn't going to tell? Was this some kid of trick? Was he trying to get me to let my guard down so I wouldn't be expecting it when they tried to kill me? Well it wasn't going to work! One does not simply 'fool' a Slytherin.

I smirked. He was going to try and trick me. Obviously. But I would be ready. I would be ready for whatever he threw my way.

I picked up the bandages and hastily wrapped my wrists up again. I still hadn't solved my dilemma. I still had a ticking time bomb before Sirius and Remus would be begin to get suspicious.

I heard the sound of footsteps coming down the hall and my heart stopped. I couldn't breathe. It was Sirius and Remus. Harry had told. They were going to kill me. I had nowhere to run, no way out of the room except through the door and right into them. And the only weapon I had was a small pocket knife. I was going to die. I was shaking, my grip on the knife painfully tight. The door swung open and I braced myself, prepared to slash at my attacker with everything I had. But instead of finding Sirius or Remus, I found Jeremy.

I let out the breath I had been holding and lowered the knife, quickly hiding it behind my back. The old slave didn't see it. "Master Lupin sent me to fetch you," he told me. "You are to make dinner."

I wrinkled my nose. _Prince _of Slytherin. Not _chef_ of Slytherin. But I said nothing, just got up and followed the old slave. I stashed the pocket knife back in the drawer and quickly walked down the hall with Jeremy. He was the essence of a slave, I supposed. Unlike myself, who had no idea how to do anything and, frankly, didn't care, Jeremy, however, could do pretty much everything and he never complained. Not once had a heard a grievance from his mouth. I slowly descended the stairs, taking as much time as possible. I rounded the corner into the kitchen, where Harry was sitting at the table. We made eye contact, but he quickly looked away. Go on, I thought. Try and say something. I _dare_ you.

Very slowly I pulled out the loaf of bread. Sandwiches. That was all they got. Turkey and cheese sandwiches. Nothing more. I sloppily placed a couple slices of turkey on the slices of bread and threw on a piece of cheese. Topping my beautiful creations with the other slice of bread, I walked one over to Harry. I placed it in front of him, doing an over exaggerated curtsy. "Your sandwich, _Master_." I smirked at him and his eyebrows shot way up. He knew my secret. He knew who I really was. But that didn't mean he was going to be able to control me. I wasn't going to _change_ for him.

Remus walked into the kitchen and took his sandwich, biting into it. He nodded. "Very good, Caelum. Thank you."

I made split second eye contact with Harry. It was strange now, to be called Draco by one person and Caelum by everyone else. Absentmindedly, I rubbed at my wrists. "Hmph."

A door slammed somewhere above and heavy footsteps pounded down the staircase. Sirius entered the kitchen, all long robes and wild black curls. He snatched the sandwich off the counter, glared at me, and stormed out. The front door banged shut. Silence hung between us until Remus broke it by saying, "Well then. Harry, complete your studies. Afterwards, come out and help prepare for the harvest. We'll begin tomorrow. You'll be need to help with the harvest as well, Caelum. Harry will teach you what to do then."

I sneered but didn't say anything. I had no idea how far I could push Harry before he gave away my secret. I was already treading in rough waters, best not to swim into rapids.

_~Harry~_

I stood up and walked out of the kitchen. I sat down at a table in the corner of Remus's office, picking up my books. When I was little, Remus had moved this table in for me so I would stop annoying him while he was trying to work. I had wanted to be just like him, I remembered. I had wanted to work too. So while Remus was quietly working away, I had sat at my table, tried to replicate his furrowed brow and the hard set of his jaw and look just as important as he.

These days, the table just served as a place for me to work on my studies. Mathmatics, language, physics, and-ugh-history. Some of the history was fascinating, but the lengthy accounts of life before the war, when the four countries had been at peace…well, those were not so fascinating.

I heard the door close and looked over my shoulder. To my surprise, I found Draco standing in the small room with me.

"What do you want?" I asked, unable to put much malice in my voice. I still didn't know what to do with my knowledge of the boy's social status.

He shrugged. "You'll be pleased to know that I have nothing better to do than watch you study…" he paused, peering over my shoulder, a smirk sliding onto his face "Physics. That's juvenile, really, Potter. I'd covered advanced physics by the time I was twelve. In Slytherin I studied advanced chemistry taught by some of the regions highest chemists." I hated the haughty look on his face. Hated him for being superior to me in knowledge. Hated myself for thinking, even if in the back of my mind, he was cute.

I ground my teeth together. "Not all of us have the money or resources _princes_ have, _Malfoy,_" I shot back, plenty of malice in my voice this time.

"Of course not everyone has that much money. Most people of poor and live in tiny houses like you. But that doesn't mean you have to be stupid," he drawled, smirking at me. "Potter," he added, as if it was an afterthought.

I was standing in an instant, the chair tilting backwards and clattering to the floor. I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and shoved him into the bookcase-lined wall. His pale gray eyes went wide, panic clearly visible. I was holding him almost off the floor, the tips of his toes still remaining contact with the ground. "Shut. _Up,"_ I growled, releasing him. I stalked back to my studies, burying my nose in my books. Draco remained flush against the wall for a moment before slowly making his way to Remus's desk. He sat down in Remus's chair, his legs pulled ups to his chest. He was staring at me, his head on his knees, but he didn't speak again.

**Author's Note**-My god, took me long enough. I'm soooo sorry. I've received plenty of emails from people demanding I update. This chapter took me forever to write. I would write a little bit of it, then take a lengthy break and try and write more a couple weeks later. Sorry I was so lazy and neglectful. I'm a horrid person, I know.

Anyways, how'd you like the chapter? I hope it doesn't let you down as many of you were pounding me for it. Sorry I made you wait so long after the cliffhanger at the end of the last chapter. I know Harry seems a little too willing to keep Draco's secret, but I figured with the crush he won't admit he has on Draco and his hero-complex, he wouldn't let Draco be killed.

I am super happy. There's less than a month left of ninth grade. I'm going to a NeverShoutNever concert in Springfield, Missouri, on May 26th and I'm literally leaping out of my skin with excitement. Cannot wait. Me and my boyfriend are going on three months and I had my first kiss :)

Review and let me know if you liked the chapter. Or yell at me for taking so long to update. Either works :)


	17. Emotions

**Title-**Harry Potter and the Slytherin Slave

**Author-**CarsonLuke

**Rating-**M for swearing, dark themes, and my paranoia.

**Story Summary-** AU. Draco Malfoy was a Prince. Harry was a peasant. What will happen when Draco's country is invaded and he is capture and sold into slavery, only to be bought by none other than Harry himself. How long can he hide his true identity? And what about his growing feelings for his young master? Warning: Slash.

**Chapter Summary-**Harry reveals something about his past and both are confused by their feelings.

**Disclaimer-**Still haven't acquired Harry Potter :(

Chapter Sixteen-Emotions

_~Draco~_

Harry was bent over his studies, decisively ignoring me. I couldn't believe he'd done that. I rubbed at my throat. He'd practically lifted me off the ground, and by the collar of my shirt! He's been angry, so angry it showed in his eyes. But, strangely there hadn't been any hate there, just rage.

Potter was so strange, so foreign. For some reason I couldn't even begin to think of, he wasn't telling my secret. Or, at least he hadn't told. Perhaps he was going to. Waiting for the right moment to drop the bomb that was sure to get me killed.

I stared at him, observing the way he ran a hand through his hair while trying to figure out a tough arithmetic problem. His hands where strong, calloused, the hands of a worker. Not slim fingered and elegant like mine. But they were right somehow.

I should be mad. I knew I should be mad. But I couldn't bring myself to hate Potter. I strongly disliked him yes, but for some reason I didn't hate the boy.

My head rested on my knees, I toyed absently with the ends of my blonde hair. It was in need of a trim. He'd scared me, that was for sure. I was certain he would hit me. But he hadn't. There'd been something, a click of realization, and he'd let me go. It was almost as if he hadn't wanted to hurt me.

Remus's desk was scattered with papers and thick leather bound books. Off to the left side, there were two picture frames. The first held a picture of a much younger looking Remus and Sirius standing with another man with dark hair much like Harry's and a shorter, plumper man. All four were smiling, arms slung carelessly around each other's shoulders. The second picture was of the same man with the dark hair, but this time his he held a slender woman with long, red hair in his arms. The picture had been taken while the couple was laughing and the man's eyes sparkled with delight. I frowned. In fact, the man's hair looked quite like Harry's. It was the same shade and just like Harry's, it was annoyingly untidy.

I picked the frame up and held it out. "Potter?" I asked quietly. "Who are these people?"

He glanced up, looking irritated at first, but then his face softened. "Those are my parents."

I nodded. "You look like them. Are they away?" I held the picture against my knees, studying the faces of the Gryffindor boy's parents.

"They're dead."

I looked up quickly. He was staring back at the table, utterly still.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I didn't know."

"How would you?" he muttered. "They died when I was a baby. I was being babysat by Sirius. He and my dad where very close, practically brothers. Remus, Sirius, my dad, and another man, Peter Pettigrew, where best friends. Or, at least, three of them where," he spat, suddenly bitter. "Pettigrew murdered them. He was jealous of my father for being better than him, for marrying my mom, who knows."

I felt my heart break for him. He looked so sad, so helpless. I stood up, setting the picture down and walking over to him. Perched on the edge of the table, I placed my hand on top of his. He stiffened, then relaxed.

"Sirius was watching me so they could celebrate their anniversary." He looked up at me, his emerald eyes red rimmed and teary.

"I'm so sorry," I mumbled. "That's awful. My mother died too. In the raid. I didn't see I just heard about it from another girl in the wagon."

Potter stared at me sullenly, then brought the hand that wasn't under mind up to cup my face. His finger traced the line of my jaw. I opened my mouth to ask him what the hell he was doing and then his mouth was on mine.

It wasn't like last time, which had been stiff and awkward. His lips were soft, just barely pressed against mine. He opened his mouth slowly, his tongue gently sliding over mine. He broke away for a moment, but I stayed frozen, dumbfounded. He stood up, softly pulling me against him. He was a couple inches taller than me; my eyes were level with his nose. I looked up at him. I wasn't fighting him. I didn't want to fight him. I didn't want to fight this.

He kissed me again, his time harder, but still tender. One of his hands was in my hair, gently cupping the back of my head. The other was wrapped around me pulling me closer. Tentatively, I placed my hands on his back, grazing my fingers up his spine. He shivered, pulling my bottom lip between his teeth and biting softly. I whimpered and fisted his shirt.

It felt good. I felt good. He felt good. Everything felt good. I couldn't form coherent thoughts, all I knew was I didn't want him to stop.

_~Harry~_

I wasn't quite sure how it had happened. He'd just been so kind and it had been such an improvement from his usually sneering self. I'd been sad and confused about why I was telling him the things that I usually kept to myself but he'd been so _nice_ and I'd just wanted something, some kind of human contact. And I'd gotten it in the form of a kiss.

And now he was kissing me back. It was so much better than the last time I'd kissed him. That had been sloppy and he'd tasted like eggs. No, this time he tasted sweet. Draco's hands were on my back and he was pressed against me, eagerly kissing me back. His tongue slid over mine like water, exploring my mouth.

And his hair. It was so soft and with it fisted in my hand, it just felt so _right_.

I broke away from him, breathing heavily. He stared at me, his gray eyes wide. "Potter-" he started.

"Harry," I corrected. "Call me Harry, please." His porclein cheeks were flushed and I wanted to pull him against me and kiss him again. "That was nice."

"Yes," he agreed. "Po-Harry, I-I'd better go. Remus is probably looking for me. I have work to do." Without giving me time to disagree, he stepped around me and slipped out of the office.

_~Draco~_

I rushed upstairs into the bathroom and splashed water on my face. My cheeks were flushed and my lips swollen from kissing. I'd kissed him. _Potter_. Of all people, it had to be Potter! I would rather have made out with fucking Remus! Okay, maybe not, but still!

Why the hell did I want more?

It wasn't like it was my first kiss either. No, I'd done my fair share of kissing. Mostly with the girl Father and Mother had arraigned for me to marry when the time was right. Greengrass. Astoria. She was an attractive girl, rather dim though. We spent most of our alone time forcing our tongues down each other's throats. I wondered if she was still alive. And then there was Blaise, my personal servant. I had kissed him a couple times. He was a good kisser, but I wasn't sure if he liked me in that way, or if he was just serving me. There'd been others as well, mainly the sons and daughters of diplomats visiting the castle. I couldn't remember most, except for that Nott boy with whom I'd had a night a passionate sex.

Gender didn't matter to me. Only beauty.

And Potter was beautiful. Not in a traditional way, but in a messier, more approachable way.

God why, couldn't I stop thinking about the damned Gryffindor?

"Caelum?" I jumped and spun around. Remus was standing in the doorway. Damn it I'd left the door open. "Can you come downstairs and help me with something?" I nodded, not trusting my voice. Rubbing my temples, I followed him out.

**Author's Note-**Ok. I think it's time we face the cold hard truth. I'm a hopeless procrastinator. Seriously I haven't updated in almost three months. I am a horrible person. Well, I guess I've had some things going on. But not really. I went to North Carolina for a week but that's it. I finally gave in to the emails from people telling me to get off my ass and update. So there. A new chapter. What did you think of it? Good? Bad? Review! Thanks to the people who haven't given up on me. I promise I'm not dropping the story, I'm just lazy. Thanks!


	18. Memories

**Title-**Harry Potter and the Slytherin Slave

**Author-**CarsonLuke

**Rating-**M for swearing, dark themes, and my paranoia.

**Story Summary-** AU. Draco Malfoy was a Prince. Harry was a peasant. What will happen when Draco's country is invaded and he is capture and sold into slavery, only to be bought by none other than Harry himself. How long can he hide his true identity? And what about his growing feelings for his young master? Warning: Slash.

**Chapter Summary-**Remus talks to Draco and Sirius talks to Harry.

**Disclaimer-**Still haven't acquired Harry Potter :(

Chapter Seventeen-Memories

_~Harry~_

I stared after Draco, not giving an ounce of thought to my studies. My whole mind-no my whole _being_-was completely and utterly focused on the kiss. I was still in a state of mind numbing shock. He liked me. He actually liked me. What I'd been feeling wasn't just some pointless, one-sided lusting. It was real. Unless Draco didn't feel anything. Perhaps he was tricking me, trying to get me to make a fool out of myself. No, I thought, mentally scolding myself. You're working yourself up over nothing. He liked me back, and that's what mattered.

I looked back at my books, not seeing anything written there, a giant grin spreading across my face. A kiss. That was something. And it wasn't an angry kiss either!

"What are you smiling about?" I jumped. Sirius was leaning in the doorway, one eyebrow raised.

"Nothing," I said far too quickly for it to go unnoticed. Sirius raised the other eyebrow before shutting the door behind him and taking a seat in Remus's chair. He propped his boot-clad feet up on the desk.

"What are you hiding?" he asked.

"Nothing," I repeated. Sirius hadn't shown any signs of liking Draco. In fact, lately he went out of his way to avoid him. How would he react if he knew that I had just gotten done kissing the blonde?

"You can tell me, I'm your godfather. What is it?" he asked, a small smile toying at the corner of his lips.

"_Nothing." _He couldn't know. There was no way I was going to tell him.

He shrugged. "Fine. Don't tell me." He swung his legs down and stood up. "We should go into town sometime. It's like I hardly see you anymore." He paused in the door. "You're just like your father, Harry. And he couldn't hide anything from me."

_~Draco~_

I followed Remus down the stairs into the kitchen. He sat down at the table and indicated for me to do the same. I risked a glance towards the study and found-to my dismay-that the door was closed. Not letting myself be disappointed, I took the offered seat. What was going on? Why was Remus sitting me down to talk?

The older man folded his hands, glancing up at me with tired eyes. He sighed. "Caelum, this is not a talk I want to have." My pulse quickened. Was I in trouble? Did they know who I was? Were they going to kill me? "I've noticed you've grown…considerably closer to Harry in the past week. That is not entirely a bad thing. Harry has very few friends. There's no one his age and we rarely make it to the city." He paused. I nervously rubbed at my bandages. "However, I suspect that you things are…well…slightly more than friendship. I trust you will tell me if my suspicions are correct?"

I gulped. He knew. Oh god, he knew. How did he know? I hardly knew myself! "Yes, sir. I mean, no sir," I stammered. "There is nothing between Harry and I."

Remus stared at me with cool blue eyes that didn't look a tiny bit believing. However, he said, "Very well. Thank you for speaking to me. I need to go to my study."

I watched his retreating form, letting out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. How the man knew about the kiss I'd shared with Harry, I had no idea. But I did know if I wanted it to happen again, we'd have to be a lot more careful.

_~Harry~_

Remus came in and shooed me from his office soon after Sirius had left. Outside it was cool, with a slightly chilly breeze that ruffled his hair. He walked towards the barn and pushed the door open. Sirius was standing a ways down, stroking the nose of his horse.

"Can I ask you something, Sirius?" I questioned.

"Of course, Harry, you can always talk to me," he said, picking up a brush and flicking the dirt off the horse's shiny black coat. I grabbed a comb and began dragging it through the tangles in the horse's mane.

"Have you ever liked someone?"

"Of course. I like Remus. I like you. I liked your parents," he answered.

"No, like romantically. Have you ever liked a girl?" Or a guy, I added in my mind. I wasn't sure why I was asking Sirius this. He wasn't married. I'd never seen him with a girl. But then again, he seemed like a better option than Remus.

"Of course. I've liked plenty of girls in the past. Your father and I, we had plenty of girlfriends back when we were your age. Got into a lot of trouble when we were your age too." He smiled. I knew he was thinking about before my father had died. "I've never had a terribly serious girlfriend. Haven't since your dad…" He trailed off with a frown, slowly running the brush over the same bit of fur.

"Do you-Do you miss him?" I whispered.

He nodded. "Everyday."

"What was he like?" I wanted to know. I needed to know. No one had ever told me much about my parents. I needed to know though. They were a part of me, and I needed them.

"James was a great man. Got into trouble, but he was loyal to his friends. I got kicked out of my house when I was sixteen. Your grandparents took me in and let me stay with James. Great people, the Potters. Let me stay with them for a year. James was always joking though. Hiding my things. There was this one time when he took all my clothes while I was bathing and put them on the roof. God knows how he did it." He smiled for a moment, remembering. "He loved your mother too. Would've done anything for her. He died trying to protect her. He tried to stop Peter from getting to her. Bastard put a knife through his heart."

I didn't say anything. I couldn't. What did someone say to that? I stared at my hands, unable to keep tears from slipping from the corners of my eyes. When I looked back up at Sirius, a patch of light shining through the crack had fallen on him, his teary eyes glistening.

**Author's** **Note**-Oh my god. I'm SOOO sorry. You guys probably thought I'd given up on this story. I'm super sorry guys

Now this was mostly just filler. Hope it was okay. I don't really like it. Review and tell me if you did.

I started tenth grade. Homework almost every night. And marching band. And soccer. And you know what that means. Even slower updates. Sorry I broke up with my boyfriend too But I have a new crush. So we'll see. I have a permit to drive to school as well. Look out Iowa!

Please review! Thanks!


	19. Sleeping Problems

**Title-**Harry Potter and the Slytherin Slave

**Author-**CarsonLuke

**Rating-**M for swearing, dark themes, and my paranoia.

**Story Summary-** AU. Draco Malfoy was a Prince. Harry was a peasant. What will happen when Draco's country is invaded and he is capture and sold into slavery, only to be bought by none other than Harry himself. How long can he hide his true identity? And what about his growing feelings for his young master? Warning: Slash.

**Chapter Summary-**Harry can't sleep.

**Disclaimer-**Unfortunately I am not JK Rowling.

Chapter Eighteen-Sleeping Problems

_~Harry~_

I awoke with a start, images of mangled bodies and pools of blood burned into my skull. I raised a hand to wipe tears from my eyes. It had been a long time since I'd had a dream about my parents. When I was younger, it had been a recurring theme, but they had slowed with age. However, this one had shaken me. The dream was already beginning to slip from my brain, soon to be lost to my subconscious, but I could remember certain points. Yelling at my parents to not let Peter Pettigrew in the house, but finding that they were unable to hear me. Watching but being unable to help as he murdered them in front of me. He had said something, but it was gone now.

I sniffled, my cheeks damp and salty. I took a few deep breaths, trying to calm my erratic breathing. Knowing full well that I would not be able to sleep for the rest of the night, I swung my legs out of bed and crept silently out of my room and into the hall. Skipping the creaky step, I eased my way down the stairs, praying no one would wake. Remus was a very light sleeper.

I opened the door a crack, stepping out onto the porch. The cool night air made the hairs on my skin raise and I suppressed a shiver. I licked my lips, crossing my arms over my chest tightly. Winter was approaching quickly, and it probably wasn't wise to be standing out here in only a pair of flannel pants.

Had it happened like it had in my dream? Had he knocked at the door? Had they smiled and welcomed him into their home? Had he used a knife from their own knife block to stab them mercilessly?

Feeling the tears springing up in my eyes again, I exhaled softly and forced myself to stop thinking that way. There was nothing I could do, I thought miserably. Nothing at all.

_~Draco~_

I stood at the base of the stairs, staring out the open door at Harry. His back was to me, miles of tan, lightly muscled skin. I'd heard him the sound of footsteps on the stairs and, being unable to sleep, I'd followed the sound to find Potter, standing outside in the cold. I took another silent, nimble step towards him, crossing the distance. It wasn't till I quietly closed the door behind myself that he acknowledged my presence. "I thought you were Remus," he said dully.

I took that as an invitation to move closer and took the spot next to him. He was staring across the lawn towards the dark trees that made up the rolling forest, thick and impenetrable. I frowned, trying to see what he could possibly find so intriguing. Sparing a glance at his face, I was shocked to find his cheeks streaked with tears. What had Potter been crying about? I didn't know how to ask him. I had never talked feelings with anyone before. Love wasn't important; I was expected to learn to appreciate the woman my parents chose. No, my parents had never taught me much about feelings. We had never talked about hatred or sadness or love. When my grandfather, the old king, had died, the kingdom had cried for him, but I hadn't shed a single tear. I hadn't known the man. We had never been close. Was it bad that I didn't miss him?

I looked up at the sky, deciding the best action would be to remain silent. Perhaps if he wanted to, Harry would talk.

Neither of us said anything, and we stood there, staring in a comfortable silence for multiple minutes. Should I have mourned my grandfather's passing? What was there to miss from a man who had never truly given me anything. Yes, he had given me lavish birthday presents, but actually spoken to me? I couldn't recall a single conversation.

"What are you looking at?" Harry asked, startling me out of my reverie. I looked at him, to find him staring at the sky, a slight frown on his face.

I shrugged. "Nothing really. I was looking at the stars, but not really seeing them. I was just thinking." I shivered, the night air cold on my skin.

He nodded. "Do you think anything is out there?" he asked quietly.

I didn't know. Was there really a god up there, watching out for everyone? If so, why had my mother died? Why had I been thrown into a life of slavery? Was there something up there, keeping an eye on us, or were we really just all alone?

_~Harry~_

I watched Draco as he shifted his weight, eyes focused on the dark sky. He was wearing a plain white t-shirt and black pants that were too long for him. His pale skin had an odd glow in the moonlight and his hair appeared almost white.

"My Mother told me once that every star is the soul of our loved ones, watching over us," he said, turning his stone eyes on me. I looked back at the stars. Was that true? Were my mom and my dad up there, watching over me? If so, how did I know which star they were? There were thousands of them up there, thrown across the night sky like glitter.

"You see that group of stars?" he asked, pointing to a seemingly random patch of sky. "It's kind of snake shaped, with a triangle at one end." I pursed my lips, kind of able to see what he was talking about. "That's Draco. The Dragon Constellation."

I stared up at the Slytherin's namesake. Were those stars his loved ones? Turning my attention back to him, I absorbed the utterly tranquil look on his face. He looked so calm, so peaceful. I was suddenly overwhelmed with emotion.

I quickly crossed the distance between us, kissing him softly on the lips, letting my tongue slide over his. His body was flush against mine and I ran my fingers through his soft hair. Finally breaking away, I smiled a little bit. "Sorry. I'm just really emotional right now."

A smile ghosted over his lips, gone quickly. He cocked his head, studying me. "When I first came, I thought you didn't like me," he said softly. "I hated you."

"I know. I never hated you. I thought you were sad." I ran my thumb over his cheek, relishing the softness of his skin.

"I hated you. I was raised to hate Gryffindors." He titled his head back, staring up at the night sky. "But now, I don't know what to think."

Author's Note-Hey guys. To make up for being a sucky updater, I gave you another chapter! Yay! Please review this one as well. No hard feelings if you don't, but it really makes me happy to get emails!

So I've had a bad last few days. My ex is being a bitch to my best friend while still trying to be friendly to me. Oh, you'd better watch out boy. You don't know who you're messing with. This girl will make your life a living hell.

On top of my bitch problem, I also have a soccer problem. Me and my afore mentioned friend coach little kids soccer, and we recently had a game. While we were warming up, one of the parents came up and told us that she wasn't attending the game and to just send her kid to the park across the street where she would pick him up in a few minutes. When the game was over, we drove the little boy to the park. We are not allowed to leave until all of our kids are picked up, and there was a recent abduction attempt so we were definitely not letting this boy out of our sight. We let him go play on the playground and watched from my friend's car. It was about 6:30 and we figured the boy's mom would be there shortly. 7 o'clock rolls around and the mom still isn't there, so we decide to give her a call, but she didn't answer. We're both annoyed because it's a school night and we have lots of homework to do for the next day. A few minutes later, the little boy came back over and was getting scared, so we let him get back in the car to wait for her. It's getting dark now, and he's all alone in a park. Finally, the mom shows up at 7:30, an hour late, saying her book club ran a little long. Seriously?! Who leaves their seven year old child all alone in a park for over an hour?! Borderline child abuse, much?!

Okay. Thanks for listening to my rant. Sorry about being so pissy. Thanks for reading!


	20. Awkward Conversations

**Title-**Harry Potter and the Slytherin Slave

**Author-**CarsonLuke

**Rating-**M for swearing, dark themes, and my paranoia.

**Story Summary-** AU. Draco Malfoy was a Prince. Harry was a peasant. What will happen when Draco's country is invaded and he is capture and sold into slavery, only to be bought by none other than Harry himself. How long can he hide his true identity? And what about his growing feelings for his young master? Warning: Slash.

**Chapter Summary-**Draco and Harry continue their talk on the deck, and Draco has some dirty thoughts.

**Disclaimer-**Still haven't acquired Harry Potter :(

_~Harry~_

Draco's eyes were on the stars, and mine were on his face. He looked so serene, like he didn't have a care in the world. This, of course, was untrue, as he was the wanted missing in action prince of a country at war. It was nice to imagine that he and I were together, with nothing to fret about. I reached out and wrapped my fingers around his wrist, pulling the bandages away. The skin underneath was pale and smooth, the wounds gone. I brushed my thumb over the black and green design inked there.

"Did it hurt?" I asked, tracing the tattoo with my nail.

He shrugged. "Not really. I got it when I was fourteen."

I marveled at the small mark. I didn't think I would be able to handle a needle piercing my skin, much less at that young age. "How old are you?"

"Seventeen," he said.

"Me too," I said. It amazed me how little I knew about the boy. We'd lived under the same roof for multiple weeks, yet I hardly knew anything about the boy. I brought his wrist to my lips and kissed the soft skin. He made a small sound in the back of his throat.

"What was it like?" I wondered. "Being a prince?"

He pursed his lips, contemplating. "It was...nice, I suppose. I got everything I wanted and I've never had to do anything. I had people to do everything for me. I had my own personal servant, Blaise. I'm not sure what happened to him." He paused and bit his lip. "But," he continued, "I never had a lot of say. Most of my life was planned out for me. I was expected to marry some Greengrass girl. We've hardly met. I didn't like her much though."

His parents were going to force him to marry a girl he didn't like? Shouldn't he be able to choose his spouse? I frowned, still running my fingers over the Malfoy crest. "Did you ever get to have any boyfriends? Or girlfriends," I added tentatively. Did Draco like girls?

He shrugged again. "I didn't get to go out much. My parents thought it was too dangerous for me. And who I would marry was decided when I was young, so I was never supposed to see anyone." He smiled a little, almost wickedly. "But sometimes people would come to the castle. Foreign diplomats. They would normally bring their sons or daughters. I slept with some of them," he admitted. "The Notts came a couple times. Their son Theodore is a couple years older than myself. I think he's twenty. He used to visit me when he was in Slytherin."

I didn't have to ask what he meant by visit; he'd implied it well enough. I was blushing furiously. I'd never had sex before. Draco, as he was making quite obvious, had. And with diplomats no less. I was uncomfortable, my fingers faltering on his wrist.

He remained silent, seeming to realize that he was making me feel awkward. He both shifted uneasily, staring at the ground. "I shouldn't have said that," he said. "God, I'm an idiot. I sound like I'm making myself out to be some kind of rebellious sex god. Forget all of that."

I laughed nervously. How could I forget everything he had said? Not with all the mental images painted so clearly in my head.

_~Draco~_

What was I thinking, bluntly telling Harry about the people I'd had sex with?! Was I trying to humiliate the both of us? Hear I was, telling my new boyfriend-were we dating?-about my past sexual exploits. And practically bragging, no less! It wasn't like I was some kind of playboy. I'd only had sex with a handful of people. What was I doing telling him about that?

And god, did he have to keep dragging his fingers across my wrist? It wasn't helping, not when I had sex on the mind.

Blushing furiously as those thoughts entered my head, I tugged my wrist from his grip. No. I would not think about sex with Harry.

Correction. I would not think about sex period.

"Maybe we should, uh, go back to bed," I stated awkwardly. It was definitely best to put as much space between Harry and my hormonal teenage self as soon as possible. Then my mind helpfully supplied me with images of going to bed_ with_ Harry. I glanced at his chest, having to bite back a moan. Damn it, why couldn't the boy be wearing a shirt? What was wrong with me? I was acting like a thirteen year old.

Just to help, my perverted mind suddenly remembered the dream I'd had awhile ago, the one about having sex with Potter. And the nice ass he'd had under his fucking Gryffindor boxers that I'd seen, right after I'd puked on him. While I was in his bed. Oh fuck.

He nodded his assent and I skirted past him, making my way towards the door. He placed his hand on my shoulder, stopping my retreat. "I like spending time with you," he whispered. I shivered as his hot breath ghosted over my ear. He turned me around to face him and pressed a soft kiss to my lips. God damn it, I was already getting hard, couldn't they boy leave me be? "Goodnight, Draco."

"Goodnight, Harry," I breathed. He smiled tenderly at me before walking inside, holding the door open for me. I followed him upstairs, ignoring my immature, perverted thoughts. I closed the door to my bedroom quietly, heading towards my bunk.

"You've been out."

I jumped, wheeling around. Jeremy was sitting up in his bed, watching me like a hawk. I quickly hid my wrist behind my back. His eyes lingered for a moment before returning to my face. "I was getting some fresh air."

"With Master Harry," he stated.

I felt the blush creeping up my neck. "It'd none of your business what I do or don't do."

"Master Potter may have eyes for you, Caelum, but you are still a slave. Slaves should not mess around with their owners," he told me solemnly.

"I'm not 'messing around with Potter'," I sneered. "Leave me alone you stupid old man."

He frowned at me, but didn't say anything else. I climbed up into my bunk and laid down, my fingers brushing over my wrist, just as Harry's had done earlier. Laying like that, I slowly drifted into unconsciousness, dreaming of green eyes Gryffindors.

_~Harry~_

I woke up the next morning, unable to remember my dream, but left with the distinct impression that it involved the blonde. Pulling myself from the warmth of my bed, I grudgingly freshened up and got dressed, a small smile on my lips. We'd had a nice talk last night, with no insults or harsh words. That had to be a first. And we'd kissed. And it had been nice. Of course, he'd ruined it by talking about having sex with other men, but it had been nice until then.

Of course, now I kept thinking about Draco and sex, which wasn't good. I was a particularly inexperienced hormonal teenager. No, thinking about the attractive Slytherin having sex was not good. Certainly not thinking about having sex _with_ the blonde.

Sighing, I ran my hand through my thick ebony locks, my fingers tugging at the tangles. It needed to be cut, I noted.

I opened my bedroom door and walked downstairs quietly. Breakfast was already on the table, but Draco was nowhere in sight. Instead, Jeremy was sitting at the table, eating a small meal and sipping a cup of coffee. Dirty plates were in the sink, indicating that Remus and Sirius had already been here.

The elderly slave nodded in my direction. "Good morning, Master Harry."

"Morning, Jeremy," I said, helping myself to a heaping pile of pancakes. Drizzling syrup over the top, I took a seat across from the man.

"Master Remus and Master Sirius are already in the fields. They said that you and Caelum are to come outside and help with the harvest after you have eaten." I nodded, mouth full of fluffy pancake goodness. "I should be getting out there myself."

I watched as he left the room, the door clanking shut behind him. I put my head in my hands. Draco…farming. God, this would not be good. Moaning to myself, I stood up, heading for the stairs to tell Draco what was in store for him.

**Author's Note-**Yah I'm keeping up on my updating! Review and tell me if you liked this chapter. I think I kinda like awkward dirty thoughts Draco

I love fall! But I officially hate picking pumpkins. I did a church fundraiser at a friend's farm and I picked pumpkins for SIX HOURS. My arms hurt, my back hurts, my legs hurt, and my butt hurts. And I was allergic to the weeds in the fields so I have a bunch of itchy red welts on my arms. And I had to help load pumpkins into trucks. I have never seen so many pumpkins. 1400 pumpkins. I never want to see that many pumpkins again.


	21. Harvest Time

**Title-**Harry Potter and the Slytherin Slave

**Author-**CarsonLuke

**Rating-**M for swearing, dark themes, and my paranoia.

**Story Summary-** AU. Draco Malfoy was a Prince. Harry was a peasant. What will happen when Draco's country is invaded and he is capture and sold into slavery, only to be bought by none other than Harry himself. How long can he hide his true identity? And what about his growing feelings for his young master? Warning: Slash.

**Chapter Summary-**Harvest time is here!

**Disclaimer-**The magnificent Draco and the others all belong to JK.

Chapter Twenty-Harvest Time

_~Harry~_

I nudged the door to the slave's quarters open. Draco was standing, arms crossed over his chest, frowning distastefully at two shirts laid out on the bed. One was a short sleeved shirt in Gryffindor red with the Gryffindor crest proclaimed proudly on the chest. It looked four sizes too big for the small framed blonde, and I recognized it as Sirius's. The second was a long sleeved shirt in the same red. However, this one was less dramatic, instead sporting only a thin stripe of gold at the ends of the sleeves. Raising his nose, Draco picked out the lesser of the two evils.

He slipped the white t-shirt over his head, ruffling his already sleep mussed hair. I bit my lip as I saw his smooth, pale skin for the first time. He was lean, his ribs slightly visible through his snowy skin. He was lightly muscled and delicate looking, and I longed to hold him.

He tugged the Gryffindor shirt over his head, ending my daydream. I sighed softly.

Draco spun around to face me, his eyes widening as he realized that I had been standing in the doorway the whole time. After a moment of shock, he adapted his trademark smirk. "Enjoying the view, Potter?" he sneered.

I bushed and cleared my throat. "Are you ready? We're working the fields today."

He gave me a deadpan stare. "Surely you've got to be kidding."

I shook my head, grinning. "It won't kill you, princess."

His stone gray eyes narrowed, and he glared at me. "I am _not_ a _princess,"_ he drawled, "And it will kill me." He raised his hands, smoothing his hair back into its usual perfect state.

I turned around, knowing he would follow. We walked downstairs and skipped the kitchen, heading straight outside. Draco blinked at the harsh sun, looking around. I sighed. "Ready?"

He glanced at the sky as if it was the bane of his problems. "This sun is horrible for my complexion." I snorted and started towards the fields.

_~Draco~_

I bit my lip before following Harry out towards the golden fields, filled with rows and rows of wheat, corn, and beans. I suppressed a shiver, the cold autumn air biting at my skin. Was I honestly expected to _harvest?!_ I was a prince, for god's sake! I didn't know how to harvest!

And damn Harry, for smirking at me like that. Didn't he know that the looks he kept sending me were causing my body temperature to rise? Especially after he'd seen me dressing this morning. The look on his face was one no one had ever given me. I'd had the urge to grab him then and there and kiss the life out of him. Unconsciously, I picked at the hem of the horrible shirt. Honestly, did Gryffindor not realize how terrible the colors were together?

As we neared the wheat fields, I noticed that many rows of grain were lying on the ground, having been chopped down near the base of the stalk. I frowned. What were we to do? They seemed to have it under control.

My question was answered as Remus came walking over, the reins of two large horses in his hands. The horse was pulling a wooden wagon. Harry took the reins and Remus returned to the fields.

"We pick up the wheat and put it in the wagon," Harry explained. "Then we take it to a barn and tie it from the rafter so it dries out and doesn't rot."

I bit my lip. "And we have to clear the _whole _field?"

Harry chuckled. "No, not today. Harvest takes a couple weeks."

We spent the next few hours heaving stalks of wheat into the wagon, moving a ways into the field, stopping, and picking up more wheat. I got the occasional glance of Remus and Sirius, long scythes in their hands, chopping the wheat down. They were always multiple yards away from each other, but they were always smiling and talking to each other.

Halfway through the days harvest, Harry stripped his sweaty shirt off and I was given a wonderful view of his firm muscles and sweat drenched skin. My arms were killing me and my back hurt from bending over, but it may have been worth that sight.

The wagon full, we climbed up onto the seat and Harry clicked to the horses and we set off. We took a long, bumpy dirt path between two fields. Harry glanced over towards me. "Having fun?"

I laughed humorlessly. "No. This is awful. My arms are scratchy, I'm sore, and I'm surely getting a sunburn."

"You poor thing. I do this every fall," he mocked with a smile that reached his eyes, lighting up his features. His green eyes were alive and he didn't look tired at all. His black hair was sticking up haphazardly and he was dripping sweat. Somehow, he still managed to look attractive. I was sure I was a mess. Infuriating bastard.

"Yes, well, that's why I'm a prince. I spend my falls attending balls and social events and going riding with my father," I told him.

We arrived at an old barn with hundreds of strands of rope hanging from the rafters. We jumped down from the wagon and began to cart the wheat inside, stringing it from the ceiling. It was mind numbing work and I felt my thoughts slipping

I felt a sudden pang of sadness at the thought of my father. Would I see him again? Was he alive, looking for me? Or was he dead? I cast a glance towards the forest. Somewhere, hundreds of miles away from here, was my homeland, possibly in ruins.

I exhaled loudly, looking back at Harry. He was watching me. "What's wrong?" he asked quietly.

"Nothing," I said quickly. "Thinking about my father," I amended. "I was just wondering where he was."

"I used to think about my father all the time. Wonder what kind of person he was, what my life would be like if he was still alive. It doesn't do much good though, does it? It's not like wishing is going to bring my parents back." His voice was soft and sad, and we fell into a silence for a long time.

"You've always lived with Remus and Sirius?" I asked, uncomfortable with the quiet.

He nodded. "For as long as I can remember. They raised me. It's hard to imagine being brought up by anyone else. Not even my parent," he added as an afterthought. "Does that make me a horrible person?"

"No," I whispered quietly. "No. You've only ever known them. You loved them. They're family to you. You're not betraying you're parents. They would want you to be happy."

"God, Draco, you're so…_good._ With words," he quickly added, and I blushed thinking about what his words could have meant.

Suddenly Harry was standing in front of me, his hands, resting on my hips. I looked up at him. He lowered his forehead to mine. "You always know what to say." He brushed his lips against mine softly, tenderly. I could feel his breath on my lips and I shivered. He touched his lips to mine again, harder this time. I deepened the kiss, running my tongue along his lip.

His hands shifted around to my back. I gasped against his lips as his fingers slipped under my shirt, softly ghosting over the skin of my lower back. I had been touched by men and women before, but never like this. It was somehow different with Harry. I couldn't help but love it. When had I started wanting him? I couldn't make sense of it. What was happening?

His lips trailed down my neck, nipping at the soft skin there. I shivered, my hands in his hair. I didn't know what to do? I liked the feel of Harry's kisses, his hands, his hair between my fingers. But I needed to find my father. I couldn't get too used to the feeling of being with Harry, or I'd never want to leave. I'd want to stay and when I had to leave, it would be that much harder to do. But I didn't want this to end. So, for now, I stood there, in the old barn, rays of sunlight breaking through the cracks in the ceiling and let myself be kissed.

**Author's Note-** Hello readers! It's good to be back! I took a little break (a short break, considering how long I've made you poor people wait for an update in the past) to work through stuff with my best friend concerning the book we're writing together. We finally gave into a fact that had been stared us in the face for a while now: two of our characters have just way too much sexual tension for them to be completely straight. With all that worked out, hopefully I can update again quickly!

In short, I don't really like this chapter, but it had to happen to push the plot forward. Hopefully the next chapter will be better Review and tell me your thoughts. I'll love you forever! Thanks!


	22. The Weasleys

**Title-**Harry Potter and the Slytherin Slave

**Author-**CarsonLuke

**Rating-**M for swearing, dark themes, and my paranoia.

**Story Summary-** AU. Draco Malfoy was a Prince. Harry was a peasant. What will happen when Draco's country is invaded and he is capture and sold into slavery, only to be bought by none other than Harry himself. How long can he hide his true identity? And what about his growing feelings for his young master? Warning: Slash.

**Chapter Summary-**The Weasleys visit and Draco gets a tad bit jealous.

**Disclaimer-**Still haven't acquired Harry Potter :(

Chapter Twenty-One-The Weasleys

_~Draco~_

The harvest lasted for three more weeks, and with those three weeks came many blisters, cuts, and sunburns, as well as a few stolen kisses with Harry while we worked. Though the kisses and the fact that Harry often went without a shirt were nice, there were far too many cons to be ignored. I hated harvest time. I had itchy bumps on my arms, my poor skin was suffering, and I was constantly tired.

And, to top things off, Black and Remus had announced that they had invited their neighbors, the Weasleys, over for a celebratory end-of-harvest get-together feast.

Well, I sighed, at least they hadn't asked me to cook anything. Remus was managing in the kitchen, with the help of Jeremy. However, I was expected to make the house spotless.

Scowling, I wrung the dirty water out of the rag and continued scrubbing the floors. This house work really was painful and tedious. My knees ached and my hands were getting pruney. How had the servants managed the great room in the Slytherin castle? One bathroom was hard enough!

Sitting back on my heels, I wiped the sweat off my face. Somehow, in the past three weeks, my life had become a living hell. Well, more so than it had been, what, with the slavery thing and all. It had been getting better. But this was torture. And I probably wouldn't even be allowed to eat any of the food until everyone left and it was all cold! And worse, the stupid Weaslys would probably track mud all over my freshly cleaned floors!

I dearly hoped they were civilized. I didn't know how I would handle uncultured Neanderthals.

_~Harry~_

Draco was in the living room, on his hands and knees, scrubbing at the wooden floor furiously. He was glowering and flushed and just all around cute. He looked up as I approached. "Don't step there, I just cleaned that spot!" he snapped, pushing the hair out of his face. "Let me guess, you've just been sitting in your room, lounging around leisurely while I work my ass off?"

I huffed indignantly. "No! I've been out cleaning the stables with Sirius. I would gladly trade you jobs." He glared at me, but returned to his work, dutifully ignoring me. "Are you mad about having to clean?" I asked, kneeling down with him. "I'll help you."

"Yes, I'm mad about that," he snapped. "But what's worse is I have to do it for some stupid Weasel clan!" he retorted.

"The Weasleys are great," I argued. "You'll like them. They have a son our age, his name is Ron, and a daughter a bit younger than us, and she's pretty cool. And Fred and George, the twins, they're hilarious."

He simply sneered. "Pitiful names. Obviously quite vulgar."

"Stop it," I told him. He had been cranky ever since the harvest began, and it was getting on my nerves. I was excited to see the Weasleys-well, not Percy-and he was ruining it for me. Ron hadn't visited for the past year and I was anxious to see one of my few friends again.

He didn't respond, instead he turned back to the cleaning. He scrubbed harshly at the same spot for over a minute. I sighed. "The Weasleys are awesome. They won't care about you being a slave. They're all for equality."

"It's not that I'm worried about," he mumbled. "I'm a Slytherin."

I paused. I hadn't considered that. How _would_ they react to that? Ron would be awful, I inwardly groaned. Mr. Weasly would probably treat him politely. Mrs. Weasley would be indignant. The twins would be merciless. "It'll be okay," I told him instead.

He huffed but didn't try to contradict me.

_~Draco~_

The Weasleys arrived in a flourish of noise. I had been quietly fixing the blankets on the couch when I heard Harry whoop and run outside, the door slamming behind him. When Harry returned, he was followed by eight redheads, all talking over each other. Remus and Sirius rushed over and added their bodies and voices to the chaos.

"Harry!" a read headed Weasley that looked about my age roared.

"Hi Harry," a boy a couple years older than myself yelled.

"Yah, hi Harry!" a copy of the boy said.

"Remus, have you been eating enough?" a heavy set woman with a wild array of red curls fussed.

A redheaded girl Weasley hugged Harry tightly, burrowing into his chest. "Oh Harry, I've missed you so much!" she exclaimed, smiling.

"Yah, Gin, I missed you to," Harry said, hugging her back. I narrowed my eyes at this behavior. The little Girl-Weasel bitch had better step away from Harry and keep her hands to herself.

The crows moved further into the house, tracking dirt onto the freshly cleaned floors. I clenched my jaw to keep from snapping out a scathing remark. It was a flurry of coats being removed, hugs being exchanging, and too many people trying to take seats around too small of a table. I stood awkwardly in the doorway to the dining room, not quite sure what to do with myself. I jumped when someone touched me on the shoulder. Jeremy smiled softly at me. "Come, now, boy. We're not needed here. They will prefer to be on their own."

Grudgingly, I tore myself from the doorway, unsure if I was happy to go, or sad to leave.

_~Harry~_

"Mum said you had a new slave from Slytherin," Ron said casually, though I knew that wasn't the case. Ron wouldn't have mentioned it at all if he wasn't exceptionally curious. We were sitting cross-legged on the porch, idly playing a card game.

I shrugged. "Yah. He's around somewhere."

Ron looked up from his cards, his eyebrows raised. "Isn't it awful? Having a _Slytherin _in your house?"

"It's not that bad. He's honestly just fine, unless you piss him off." Ron stared at me, a shocked expression on his face. "Really. There's nothing wrong with him."

"But," he blanched. "But he's a Slytherin!"

I rolled my eyes. "I know that, Ron. And there's nothing wrong with him. See, there he is, with Jeremy. It's not like he's a snake or anything freaky like that."

Ron didn't say anything, but he made a face that suggested he wasn't quite convinced. "I wouldn't trust him much," he muttered finally. "You can't trust a Slytherin farther than you can throw one. Sneaky bastards, the lot of them. He might try and knife you while you're sleeping or something."

I shook my head, getting annoyed. Why was it so hard for everyone to see that Draco wasn't a bad guy? Sure, he was rude, moody, and sometimes annoying. But he was also funny, in a sarcastic, weird kind of way, sweet, and underneath all his armor, he was kind and caring. "No, Caelum's cool. He's nothing to be afraid of."

Ron looked doubtful, but he didn't argue. "So…Ginny. She likes you."

I grunted. "Yah." In truth, I had known this for a long time. She had had a crush on me since she was little, and she'd never done a good job of concealing it. I had never returned the feelings, and now that I had Draco, I couldn't even think about her. Draco was to overwhelmingly great. She could never compare.

Though, I wasn't going to tell Ron that.

I stared across the lawn at Draco. He was standing next to Jeremy, who was pulling weeds from Remus's garden. I hadn't gotten a chance to speak to him since the Weasleys arrived, but I could feel his sour mood rolling off him, even from this distance.

I jumped as Mrs. Weasley stuck her head outside. "Ronald, come in here. You left your plates at the table. Where are your manners? You can't expect poor Remus and Sirius to clean up your messes!" she chastised. Ron rolled his eyes, put stood up none the less, throwing his cardfs to the ground. Granted, he made a face that expressed his annoyance, but he didn't argue. "Hello, Harry, dear," she said pleasantly.

I smiled weakly as Ron was whisked away. As soon as the door closed, I stood and walked over to Draco. "What?" he snapped, upon seeing me. He was scowling, arms folded across his chest in an all around bad mood.

"Come with me," I told him. I grabbed him by the arm before he could answer, towing him towards the barn. He swore, trying to yank himself free of my grip and scratching my hand. I didn't let up, but continued to drag him. I opened the door of the barn, gently pushing him inside. Draco had stopped swearing, instead choosing to glare heavily.

"What the fuck are you doing, Potter?" he snapped. He was only a few feet from me, and his hands were curled into fists, ready to strike.

"I wanted to talk to you away from everyone. You were in a bad mood and I wanted to cheer you up," I answered. His face softened, his glare replaced with the something a few steps short of a smile. Suddenly, the short distance between us seemed anything but innocent.

Draco moved closer, his breath hot against my lips. "I don't like your Weasleys," he whispered. I was all too aware of his body and how his leg brushed against my thigh as he shifted his weight. I swallowed, trying to calm my frantic heart. He brushed his lips across mine in a soft, chaste kiss. He really did have soft lips, I noted. I brought my arms up to run through his pale hair. He blinked slowly. God, his eyes were gray. Intriguing, captivating, sexy gray. I kissed him tenderly, and the kiss drew out, becoming more heated. His hands were on my back and in my hair and I was pressed up against him. He titled his head, nipping at my bottom lip. I captured his lips again. I faintly registered my horse whinnying in the background, but I was too busy to notice.

Draco suddenly broke away from me, a startled look on his face. He put his hands on my chest and shoved me back. I frowned. What was wrong? Had I done something to warrant this sudden change of behavior? Draco was gaping openmouthed, staring in horror at something over my shoulder. I turned around slowly. Ron was standing in the doorway, his face identical to Draco's. Behind him was Ginny, who's eyebrows reached her hairline.

Ron recovered first. "Oh," he said, toeing at the ground awkwardly. "We've been looking for you."

**Author's Note-**Sorry this update took so long. I've got quite a workload at school. We're studying evolution in biology, World War One in history, pep band started, and I've had a few extensive projects for my drawing/painting class. Semester exams are coming up in a few weeks as well. So there might not be another update for a little while. Sorry guys

Hope you liked this chapter. I liked it pretty well. Please leave a review telling me your thoughts.


	23. My Liege

**Title-**Harry Potter and the Slytherin Slave

**Author-**CarsonLuke

**Rating-**M for swearing, dark themes, and my paranoia.

**Story Summary-** AU. Draco Malfoy was a Prince. Harry was a peasant. What will happen when Draco's country is invaded and he is capture and sold into slavery, only to be bought by none other than Harry himself. How long can he hide his true identity? And what about his growing feelings for his young master? Warning: Slash.

**Chapter Summary-**The truth finally comes out. The whole truth.

**Disclaimer-**Still haven't acquired Harry Potter :(

**Author's Note-** Thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter, they mean a lot. Warning-this chapter is violent.

Chapter Twenty-Two-My Liege

_~Harry~_

"Mate," I said cautiously. Ron was staring at us with a look of disbelief, his mouth agape. "I-You weren't supposed to come in."

He snorted. "Well, obviously. I guess that much by the way you were snogging him."

I felt heat rising to my cheeks. "Yah…Well, um, this is Dr-Caelum. This is Caelum." Had I almost said his name? I had almost blurted to the world that the boy I had kissing, my slave, also happened to be the lost prince of the freaking Slytherin Empire. Could I be any more dense?

"Harry!" Ginny, shrieked, finally recovering the ability to speak. "He's a Slytherin! And a slave!" She sneered at Draco, a look of disgust on her face. "And a _boy!"_

"I know that, Ginny," I said sarcastically. Of course I knew he was a boy! I wasn't _that_ dense. "Clearly he's a boy. There's a few leading factors that would suggest that."

"But-But," she sputtered, her face reddening to match her hair. She narrowed her eyes at Draco. He didn't flinch, just steadily returned her gaze. "It's wrong! Harry, he's below you, not to mention it's a sin-"

"Oh shut up, Ginny," Ron snapped. "You weren't going to end up marrying Harry anyways." My face colored even more. Thankful though I was to Ron for stopping her rant, did he have to bring up her crush? I felt Draco bristle next to me.

"You can't be saying you approve of this?" Ginny asked incredulously, turning her glare on her brother.

"Well, it certainly is a surprise, and I can't say I'm a fan of Slytherins, but if it's what Harry wants…well, I guess I can support that." Ron shrugged, staring at the ground awkwardly. I had never felt more fond of him in my entire life. Knowing that he approved was an enormous relief, one I hadn't even realized I'd been worried about. If Ron could accept me and Draco, surely Remus would as well? And Sirius…Well, Sirius was a different story.

And so, it appeared, was Ginny. She gaped at him for a moment before throwing an icy stare my way. She huffed indignantly, then turned and stormed out, slamming the barn door behind her.

"Sorry about her mate," Ron apologized. "She's just pissed about not being able to marry you." When I didn't reply, he let out a shaky breath. "So, why didn't you tell me mate?"

I shrugged. "Hadn't really decided if I was…If I was gay or not." He nodded, and didn't press the issue, seeming to accept my answer. I reached out for Draco, entwining my fingers with his. He tried to pull away, but I held firm. "Are you going to tell your-"

The barn door flung open. I jumped and Draco jerked his hand away from me. Ron spun around, blinking against the harsh sunlight. Standing in the doorway was Sirius, face full of rage, flanked by Ginny, who had a sickeningly smug look on her face. Sirius strode over and, before I could stop him, grabbed Draco by the hair and dragged him outside.

"Sirius!" I cried, running after them. "Stop it! Leave him be!"

The rest of the Weasleys were in the yard, most looking surprised and shocked, but I couldn't focus on them. All I could think about was Draco, and my godfather's rough hold on him. Remus was marching across the lawn towards us quickly. "Now, Sirius, wait!" he called.

Sirius threw Draco to the ground, where he sprawled out awkwardly, rolling onto his back to look up at everyone. "You little bastard!" he shouted. "You little fucking bastard! I let you into my house-_my house_-and you have the nerve, the _audacity_ to do such a thing?! You are a Slytherin! How dare you kiss my godson! How dare you even think about Harry! You are a slave, a bitch! You are nothing more than property!" He kicked Draco in the stomach, eliciting a cry from him.

I tried to step forward, but a pair of hands held me back. I twisted to see Bill Weasley, his face resigned and sad. There was another cry from Draco, and I fought against Bill's grip even harder, ignoring what was sure to turn into bruises. I had to get to Draco. Sirius was hurting him, more than he ever had.

"Stop it!" I screamed. "Stop hurting him!"

My thoughts were panicked as I struggled to reach him. As another sob was elicited from Draco, I felt tears welling up in my own eyes. Would Sirius stop this time? Or would he kill Draco?

_~Draco~_

Pain. All I could feel was pain as Black kicked me again, a hard blow to the ribs. I could distantly hear Harry's shouts to stop. I tried to curl in on myself, to protect myself, but it hurt too much. Oh god, it hurt. My whole body was on fire, a constant ebb of white hot pain.

"You whore! You disgrace my house, you dirty my floors!" Sirius screamed. "You dare to kiss my godson? How dare you?! You are a slave, a piece of property, unworthy of the ground Harry walks upon! You defile him with your touches! I will kill you, whore! I will kill you!" He accentuated his point with a harsh blow to my stomach that left me coughing up blood. I picked myself up onto all fours, throwing up a mixture of blood and the contents of my stomach. How did I stop this attack? Why was no one helping me? I could hear cries for Sirius to stop, and one sounded like Remus, but he and Harry seemed to be the only ones putting up a fuss. The only ones helping me.

Oh god, I was going to die here, in a pool of my own vomit.

Sirius grabbed my hair and yanked me to my feet. I whimpered, stumbling. I could barely stand-the world was spinning and I felt sick again. Sirius slapped me hard, across the face, snapping my head back. "Vile, stupid, vermin, whore," he spat, grabbing my wrists. "Wear your scars like a man, bitch. Wear them to show how low you are." He was tugging at me, ripping the bandages off my wrists, and I couldn't stop him. My muscles wouldn't cooperate and I couldn't put up a fight. All I could do was weakly push at his wrists as he stripped away my last hope.

First came the Slytherin crest, slightly marred with scarring, but still there in all its glory. He picked up my left wrist and ripped away those wrapping as well. He went still, rant dying on his tongue as he stared at my wrist. He lifted his eyes to mine and slowly a wicked smiled spread across his face.

"Well, well, well," he drawled. "What do we have here? Our very own little prince!" He cackled manically and forced my head back, his other hand on my jaw. "Think you're so high and mighty, do you? Is that why you thought you could get away with defiling my godson with your filth? Is it? I bet Daddy didn't know you were a wicked little ponce, did he? No, I reckon he had no idea what a whore his darling little son was." He let go of me and roughly shoved me. I stumbled and fell, a whole new wave of pain washing over me. "There's a bounty on your head, _Prince_. Oh yes, quite a large one too. We're going to rich."

He squatted down next to me, grabbing my hair and forcing my head back. "We're going to be rich as kings," he snarled. "And you'll be dead." There was a hateful gleam in his eyes, and I could barely keep mine open. The world was spinning and he was swimming in and out of my vision. "_My liege."_

**Author's Note-**Well, was it good? Review and tell me what you think please

My bff who I write my book series with finally got a fanfiction account after over a year of me telling her about this amazing site. And now she's just as addicted as me. Yay! Her name is AlecCole. Check her out, she's got a story in progress that's sort of similar to this one in terms of time period and such.

Anyways, I finished this chapter faster than planned. Things are picking up as far as plot goes. That might make updates faster. Might. I've still got finals coming up, and I'm still lazy. Thanks for reading!


	24. Savior

**Title-**Harry Potter and the Slytherin Slave

**Author-**CarsonLuke

**Rating-**M for swearing, dark themes, and my paranoia.

**Story Summary-** AU. Draco Malfoy was a Prince. Harry was a peasant. What will happen when Draco's country is invaded and he is capture and sold into slavery, only to be bought by none other than Harry himself. How long can he hide his true identity? And what about his growing feelings for his young master? Warning: Slash.

**Chapter Summary-**Draco goes to Hogsmeade and meets his savior.

**Disclaimer-**The magnificent Draco and the others all belong to JK.

**Chapter Twenty-Three-Savior**

_~Harry~_

I had never hated Sirius more than I did in that moment.

I was limp, the only thing keeping me from collapsing next to Draco was Bill's arms, holding me against him. Draco was still, except for the rise and fall of his chest. There was blood running from his nose and lips, startlingly red against his pale skin. He looked small, so tiny, awkwardly crumpled on the ground.

A strangled sob escaped my throat, and tears were slowly rolling down my cheeks. They knew. Oh god, everyone knew. They would kill him. He would be turned in, and then Draco would be murdered. And there was nothing I could do to save him. How I could fight them, all these people I loved? All these people who despised Slytherin, who would gladly see him executed. How could I possibly save him?

"Well," Sirius said, standing up straight. "Fetch the wagon, Remus. It seems we'll be heading to Hogsmeade."

"Was that really necessary?" Remus asked quietly.

"Yes," Sirius snapped. "He's a _Slytherin._ And he was messing with Harry!"

"He wasn't messing with me!" I cried. "He wasn't doing anything! You can't turn him in! They'll kill him! Please, Sirius!"

He stared at me for a long moment before turning away. "Sorry, Harry. He's their prince. There's a price on his head. We can finally have enough money" He grabbed Draco under the arms and began towing him towards the wagon, near the barn. Mr. Weasley quickly moved out of the way, biting his lip as he stared at Draco's limp form, but did nothing. "He's being turned in. The Slytherin's have killed thousands of our soldiers. And he's their prince. Someone had to pay."

_~Draco~_

Pain.

That was the first thing my conscious mind recognized.

The second thing I realized was my hands were bound, my mouth was gagged, and I was laying on the hard floor of a moving wagon. The irony wasn't lost on me.

It was dark. I rolled onto my back awkwardly, knocking my knee on the side of the wagon. The stars were bright overhead, and all I could hear was quiet footsteps and the occasionally soft whiney of a horse.

I groaned. My body ached and the ropes were digging uncomfortably into my wrists. I tried to sit up but discovered I could only move a short distance, as there rope binding my wrists was connected to side of the wagon. I winced, my shoulder blades digging into the wood. From this position I could see the rise of buildings in the distance. I could faintly make out red and gold hangings, fluttering slightly in the breeze.

My eyes widened and I tugging against my restraints. Hogsmeade. They were taking me to the capitol. I was going to be killed. Hanged, beheaded, whatever barbaric form they chose. I cried out, but the gag muffled it, only letting a muted moan through.

"Shut up," Black said from somewhere ahead of me. I stilled. Of course. He hated me. He had from the moment he'd brought me into the house. And know, with him knowing about Harry and I, he was murderous. Of course he had meant everything he'd said as he'd beaten me. He wouldn't think twice about handing me over to the bloodthirsty armies. If it had been Remus, maybe I could have gotten away. But, with this man, this wild, crazy man, there was no way I would escape. Black would never let me go.

Fat tears rolled down my cheeks. When had I become so weak? No, I had never been a warrior, or a fighter, but I'd never been so resigned to my fate. But, laying there, tired, weak, and sore, I couldn't muster up the energy or the courage to do anything. And what could I do? I was bound and gagged. How could I fight?

I tugged at my restraints pitifully as the wagon rolled closer and closer to the city. I was pathetic. I couldn't even muster up any energy to save myself. My father would be ashamed of me. Eventually, the wagon rolled to a stop. I could hear hushed voices, but I couldn't make out what was being said. Then the wagon jerked into motion again. I banged my head against the side. Fuck, I thought.

The next time the wagon stopped, I could make out the voices. "Tie your horse here, then get the prisoner and follow me."

Suddenly Black's face appeared over mine, and I shrieked against my gag. He untied me form the wagon. He opened the back of the wagon and roughly tugged me out. I stumbled, unable to use my hand to steady myself. Black grabbed me by the restraints, dragging me along with him. Two burly men, dressed in red and gold guard attire, looked impressed upon seeing me. They led us up the long, wide path to a sprawling castle. In hindsight, it looked quite a bit friendlier than the Slytherin castle ever had, but I was far too scared to consider anything about Gryffindor 'friendly.'

I was led into the main entrance hall, and down another side hallway, until we came to stop before a huge set of wooden doors, intricately carved with two lions, reared up on their hind feet. This was it. I was going to die. One of the guards stepped forward and opened the door. He was a muscular, dark skinned man, with a bald head, and a frightening stare. He turned his gaze on me and I shrank back, bumping into Black, who pushed me forward through the door.

There was a throne inside, an intricate gold throne, with rubies imbedded in it. Guards stood a ways back, armed and ready to defend their king. The man on the throne was not what I had expected, and for some reason, I was comforted by seeing him. He was an old man, with long white hair and a matching beard. Perched on his crooked nose was a pair of half moon glasses. He wore long robes in light red, with golden embroidery. He didn't look like the cruel, sadistic man I had been told about.

"King Dumbledore," someone announced. Black bowed and forced me into a kneeling position as well. He dragged me back to me feet, yanking on my wrists.

"And what is this?" the king asked. He had a soft, gentle voice.

"This man claims to have found the heir to the Slytherin throne," the same guard who opened the door announced.

"Thank you, Kingsley," the king said. "And what is your name?"

"Sirius Black, your highness," he answered. "I am sure this is the prince. He has the crest."

"Does he now?" Dumbledore asked, staring at me intrigued. I met his eyes defiantly. He didn't scare me, for some reason. I wasn't scared of this kind old man. "Bring him here, Kingsley." The guard grabbed my arm and led me to the king. I was spun around, and I felt the king's fingers brush over my wrist. "Yes," he said finally. "You have indeed found the Slytherin Prince, Mr. Black. May I ask how you managed this?"

"I bought him at a slave auction, sir. His wrists were injured so I didn't know until recently who he actually was," Black said.

"Well, I am glad you have found him. You will be rewarded. Kingsley, please take him to the dungeons."

The guard led me out on the room and down many flights of stone stairs. Goosebumps began to rise on my skin. He took a ring of keys from his pocket and unlocked a thick door. Inside was a long row of cells with thick, iron bars. It was musty in here, and it stank of decay. He led me past cells filled with ragged looking prisoners who barred their teeth and swore at Kingsley. At the end of the row, he opened a cell and ushered me inside. The lock clicked and he walked away. The fear was returning and I began to tear up again. I was stuck down here, in the dark, moldy dungeons. They were going to let me rot and starve to death down here. I was doomed.

Would I ever see my father? Or Harry? Would I ever see Harry? He had tried to help. I knew he had. He would never let me be carted off to be killed without putting up a fight. I leaned against the hard stone wall, crying softly. What if I never saw Harry again?

-oOo-

I didn't know when I fell asleep, but I was startled awake by someone shaking me. I looked up into the face of a man with greasy black hair and hooked nose. "Come on, Draco, stand up. I'm going to get you out of here," he whispered.

I stared at him. Who was this man? Was he actually trying to help me? Was I going to be saved? I scrambled to my feet, not letting myself worry over whether or not he was actually trustworthy. "I'm going to untie you, but you have to be quiet. " I nodded enthusiastically. He took the gag out of my mouth and I breathed a sigh of relief. He pulled out a small knife and sliced through the rope tying my wrists. My shoulders groaned in protest as I moved my arms. He held on to my forearm and led me down the row of cells and out the door.

The stairs were slick but we took them quickly. When we finally emerged into the body of the castle, he quickly tugged me down a narrow side hall. The castle was quiet, and our footsteps seemed to ring out noisily. I clamped my hand over my mouth to keep my ragged breath from being heard. I was going to survive. This stranger was saving me. It seemed unreal, and I had to fight the urge to pinch myself.

Finally, the man opened a door and we emerged outside. The sun was just rising and the sky was painted a light gray. The man led me into a stable and got two horses. He handed the gray one off to me and I quickly swung up. He followed suit, climbing onto a chestnut mare. He kicked his horse into a fast trot and we crossed the ground quickly. I felt exposed here, like soldiers would be upon us at any second. But nothing happened, and the man led us through a gate. And then we were out. As simple as that. The only thing before us was the sprawling expanse of Gryffindor countryside.

We rode in silence until the castle was out of sight. Then the man slowed his horse and turned to look at me. His eyes were as dark as his hair. "I'm Severus Snape." He extended a hand and I shook it. "I know where your father is."

**Author's Note**- It's Thursday, the first day of my semester exams. However, the part of Iowa in which I live is currently experiencing a blizzard. So school was cancelled. So I'll have half my tests tomorrow and the other half in January when we come back from Christmas break. Unless school if cancelled tomorrow. Then all the tests are after break. This sucks. Screw you, nature. The only thing that make this slightly better is the fact that this snowstorm's name is Draco. That made my day.

Anyways, enough of that, let's talk about the chapter. I think it's the longest one I've written! Did you like it? Please review and tell me what you thought.


	25. Revelations

**Title-**Harry Potter and the Slytherin Slave

**Author-**CarsonLuke

**Rating-**M for swearing, dark themes, and my paranoia.

**Story Summary-** AU. Draco Malfoy was a Prince. Harry was a peasant. What will happen when Draco's country is invaded and he is capture and sold into slavery, only to be bought by none other than Harry himself. How long can he hide his true identity? And what about his growing feelings for his young master? Warning: Slash.

**Chapter Summary-**Remus and Harry go to Hogsmeade.

**Disclaimer-**The magnificent Draco and the others all belong to JK.

**Chapter Twenty-Four-Revelations**

_~Harry~_

The house was deathly silent. Remus sat across the table, staring at the table, occasionally glancing up at me with a faraway look in his eyes. It was the second day since Draco's exposure. Remus had kept me from jumping on my horse and riding after him, and now it felt as if there was nothing to do. I had failed him. He was going to be hanged or beheaded and all I could do was sit here and feel sorry for myself.

"Did you know?" Remus asked abruptly, intently staring up at me. "Did you know he was the prince of Slytherin?"

I hesitated, then nodded. Draco was gone. There was no harm in telling the truth now. "I knew for awhile. I didn't want Sirius to find out. I knew he would react badly." That was the understatement of the century.

He considered this for a moment. "How much did you care for him?"

I opened my mouth, but quickly closed it. How did I sum up my feelings for Draco? They were so intense, yet so complicated. How did one begin to explain the level of emotion I felt towards Draco? "I…I think I loved him," I whispered. Was that it? Had I been in love? How did I know? I'd never loved anyone besides my parents, Remus, and Sirius before. But what else did you call such strong desire and affection for another?

Remus ran a hand through his graying hair. "Then we go."

I frowned. "Go? Go where?"

"Hogsmeade. We speak with the king. And if that doesn't work…well, God help us if that doesn't work."

_~Draco~_

Riding with Snape was extremely tedious. He didn't talk and if I tried to ask him anything, he looked at me like I was stupid. His hair was greasy, and he always wore a sour expression. He had yet to tell me how he knew my father or even where my father was.

He was currently riding about ten feet ahead of me. We were crossing the rolling, green hills of Gryffindor relatively quickly. I trotted my horse up to him. "How long till we reach my father?" I asked. I asked him this multiple times, but all he had ever said was 'In time.' I was beginning to hate those words.

He glanced up at the sun, then out across the lush countryside. "In time." I narrowed my eyes. A Slytherin's temper wasn't something to be contended with. Especially not that of a spoiled prince.

"But how long? Where is my father?" I persisted.

"He is residing in the valley between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. Another day's journey will put us at the top of the canyon. From there, we will begin out descent," he drawled.

I let my horse fall back. A day's journey. I was a day away from my father. After not seeing him for multiple months, only a day worth of Gryffindor landscape separated us. My mother. My poor mother. Did he know of her fate? Had he assumed her dead? Had he assumed the same about me?

At the back of my mind, I could feel a certain sense of dread. The closer I got to my father and my freedom, the farther away I got from Harry. Would I ever see him again? By leaving Gryffindor, I was turning my back on him and everything I felt towards him. I risked a glance over my shoulder. There was nothing to see. Only grass, gently swaying in the breeze, and the occasional tree, casting long shadows in the afternoon sun. There was no Harry, running to join me or begging me to reconsider. Besides Snape and the horses, I was utterly alone.

_~Harry~_

The trip to Hogsmeade was fast and uneventful. From the minute we saddled out horses to the moment the castle came into view, I thought of nothing but Draco. Was this my chance to save? To bring him out of the dungeons, back from the brink of death? But how would we possibly convince the king to release the son of his number one enemy? Besides, I had never seen, let alone met, the king. Why would he listen to me, a measly peasant boy?

The castle was an intimidating structure. I didn't know if it was just Gryffindor castle, or it was just a characteristic of castles in general. It was surprisingly easy to gain entrance. Remus told the guards that we were seeking a meeting with the king; they searched us and removed us of all our weapons, and sent us inside to wait.

The room we were put into wait was larger than out entire house. It was lavishly decorated in red and gold hangings, plush red chairs, and large gold framed paintings of past kings, staring down at us regally as is to say 'who do you think you are to come in here and dirty our floors?'

I sat down awkwardly on a chair far too expensive to ever seat the likes of my ass again. Remus began pacing holes in the floor, nervously twisting and untwisting the sleeves of his shirt. "Harry, I don't want you to get your hopes up. The king very well may refuse to listen to us. And even if he will hear us out, it's very likely he will refuse to free Draco."

I nodded, a sick feeling settling into the pit of my stomach once again. Maybe I was foolish to think we had any hope. Maybe I had already lost Draco.

Nothing else transpired between us. Eventually a set of guards came to bring us before the king. I couldn't say how long we stayed in the waiting room. It felt like an eternity. Maybe it was an hour. I couldn't tell. The walk to the throne room felt equally as long. None of us spoke. I could hear the blood rushing in my ears. I was sure the guards could hear my heart pounding as loud as the sound of their heels clacking on the tiled floor. I didn't look at Remus. I didn't want him to see my fear, and I didn't want to see his. The hall seemed to stretch out as far as my eye could see, with the carved doors that were our destination looming up in the distance, hard and vindictive.

And then we were there, right in front of the doors. There were two men guarding the door, one on each side, and at a nod from the guards leading us, they each took a handle and pulled the doors open. They groaned.

They king sat in his throne, straight ahead. He was not as I expected: long beard, twinkling eyes, and smile lines. Remus immediately fell into a bow at his feet and I rushed to do the same. When we arose, Remus stepped slightly forward. "King Dumbledore, your highness. I am Remus Lupin and this is my godson, Harry Potter. Recently, a friend of mine, Sirius Black, brought to you Prince Draco of Slytherin. I come to beg you not to have him killed. As my slave, he was nothing but compliant." I didn't point out how huge of a lie that was. My heart was racing. What if he didn't agree? What if we were too late? What if he was already dead?

"Please, sir," I said, stepping forward. Remus was motioning for me to be quiet. I didn't stop to consider if this was a bad idea that could possibly get me killed. I rushed headlong into it with to hesitation. "Don't kill Draco. He doesn't deserve. This war is with his father, not with him. Give him back to his father in exchange for peace. Do anything. Just please don't kill him."

King Dumbledore cocked his head, watching me. He didn't say anything for a while. "Guards, take Mr. Lupin out of the room. I wish to speak to the boy alone."

Remus opened his mouth to argue, but he was quickly removed from the room. The doors closed with a bang and it was just me and him. This was it, wasn't it? I was going to die? I had said something wrong and he was going to have me killed.

"Tell me Harry, were you close to your slave, young Mr. Malfoy?" His voice was slow and gentle. It certainly wasn't a voice I would associate with a ruthless murderer. "Dare I say, friends?" I nodded. If I was caught on a lie, things could go even worse. "And, naturally, you are concerned for his general wellbeing, like any good friend." I nodded again. King Dumbledore shifted in his seat, staring down at me over half rimmed glasses.

"I don't enjoy this war we find ourselves in, Harry. The struggle for peace is far more rewarding than the struggle for power. I have long been looking for a way to end this war between Gryffindor and Slytherin. With every battle we fight, another soldier dies. Another Gryffindor family is broken." I wasn't quite sure why he was telling me this. What did this have to do with getting Draco to safety? "I have allies with ties to both sides of this war. I am striving for a peace treaty that will please me while not blatantly surrendering. I do not wish to anger me people, Harry."

"Your highness, what does this have to do with Draco?" I asked.

He smiled. It was the kind of smile a grandfather gives his favorite grandson. "Ah yes. Draco. I do not have Draco."

My heart stopped and my stomach dropped. I gaped at him. I was too late. They had murdered him.

"Draco is my peace treaty. He is en route to his father with one of my most trusted allies. I have corresponded with his father and he knows it is peace that I seek. I hope this will achieve it. Draco does not die. Your friend Sirius will get a portion of his reward money, even though the young Prince is no longer here."

I couldn't comprehend it. Draco was safe. He wasn't going to die. King Dumbledore had orchestrated a rescue for the heir to the enemy throne. Nothing made sense, but at the same time it made perfect sense. This had the potential to bring about peace with the two warring nations, all without Gryffindor knowing it was returning Draco to Slytherin. But why would Dumbledore want this? Why would he go behind the backs of his people to end a war he had been fighting for ten years?

As if he could read my mind Dumbledore said, "I never wanted this war, Harry. The armies rushed into it without my consent. If it could have been avoided, I would have seen to it. But I had to satisfy my people. Man's greatest weakness is his desire for revenge, Harry."

It was hard to take in so much information. Only a minute ago, I had felt the heartbreak of thinking Draco was dead. And now I was flooded with overwhelming relief. He was not dead, but alive and on his way out of Gryffindor, away from the people who try to kill him. He was on the path towards being reunited with his father. And every step he took towards his father was a step away from me. I felt the momentary ecstasy fading and being replaced by gloom. The minute he left Gryffindor, he was lost. I would never see him again. I felt guilty for wishing he wasn't being reunited with his people, but it was true. I wanted him back here with me. I didn't want to lose him, not again.

"King Dumbledore, Sir," I said, taking a shot. "Where are the Slytherins? I need to go to Draco."

He stared at me for a moment. I was preparing myself to be rejected. "If you tell anyone the location of the Slytherin army, you will be killed. I will not have you jeopardizing the peace I have worked so hard for. There is someone who can take you. I'm trusting you, Harry."

**Author's Note-**Sorry that took me so long, guys! I've been a busy bee! But finals are done now, my friend and I have straightened out the plot for our book, and I have a dress for winter formal. Yay!

Anyways, I hope you liked the chapter. Please give me your feedback in the form of a review. I greatly appreciate them! Thanks guys!


	26. Home

**Title-**Harry Potter and the Slytherin Slave

**Author-**CarsonLuke

**Rating-**M for swearing, dark themes, and my paranoia.

**Story Summary-** AU. Draco Malfoy was a Prince. Harry was a peasant. What will happen when Draco's country is invaded and he is capture and sold into slavery, only to be bought by none other than Harry himself. How long can he hide his true identity? And what about his growing feelings for his young master? Warning: Slash.

**Chapter Summary-**Harry meets his guide and Draco reaches the end of his journey.

**Disclaimer-**The magnificent Draco and the others all belong to JK.

**Chapter Twenty-Five-Home **

_~Harry~_

Whatever I had been expecting from my ever mysterious companion, this most certainly was not it. King Dumbledore escorted me to a small chamber off of the throne room and left me there. I had remained standing in the corner, unsure whether or not I should seat myself at the only chair in the room, then deciding against it. Nearly ten minutes passed before I began to hear the sounds of footsteps, a gruff voice, and an odd thumping noise.

"You can't be serious, Dumbledore. Sending a peasant child into the heart of the beast! It's fools play! Outrageous! If you weren't such a brilliant man, I wouldn't even be considerin' it!"

"Alastor, I can assure you that I've thought it over very well indeed. I believe it's what we need to end this war we've been fighting for ten years. I'm sure you'll get along with him quite well. He's just like his father."

The door swung open and I had to step back to avoid being hit in the face with it. Dumbledore smiled kindly at me and stepped in. The man who followed was nothing short of frightening. Scraggly graying hair and a matching beard gave him the look of a homeless man, and the dirt underneath his fingernails did nothing to help that assumption. A jagged scar ran across his face. One of his eyes was a watery brown color, the other was bright, electric blue. Every step he took caused a hollow thumping sound as the result of his prosthetic wooden leg hitting the floor. He looked me up and down, his blue eye seeming to stare right through me.

"Right," he said, his voice rough and ragged like sandpaper. "Mr. Potter. Mad-Eye Moody's the name. I'll be taking you to the edge of the Slytherin. Won't be taking you any further; I'm not crazy. If Dumbledore's talked you into that, you can go ahead, but don't count on me being there alongside you."

I nodded. I hadn't really thought about that, actually going into Slytherin. It was probably suicidal, and if it was anyone but Draco I wouldn't have gone. But for him I had to. I had to try.

_~Draco~_

The journey was long and tedious. We barely stopped to sleep, and even then it was hard to find sleep in the wilderness with only a man I barely knew as company. I could hear the wolves some nights, howling in the distance, or, even more unnerving, nearby. Snape wasn't one for conversation either. Sometimes he would comment on how a type of weed could be used in potion-making, or note the relative time of day, but mostly he just sneered distastefully at everything.

My back was beginning to ache, my crotch was sore as hell, and my legs were going to sleep. We had been traveling for four days in the wretched mountains near the Gryffindor border. I was beginning to doubt we'd ever make it. We hadn't seen any trace of any other life form, except for when a sun baked, withered old man peered at us from his ancient, flaccid porch in the middle of nowhere.

I squirmed in the saddle, trying to bring feeling back to my ass. We were going up a steep incline, quite a ways into the mountainous countryside. The horses were struggling to get up; we had to stand in the stirrups to assist them.

Then, suddenly, we broke the crest of the mountain. The brilliant rays of the sun bore down on us, blindingly bright. Across from us was another set of mountains, these belonging to Ravenclaw. Nestled between these two glorious mountain ranges, way down in the depths of the valley, was a city of tents. Fires burned and silver and green flags flailed in the wind, proudly proclaiming the survival of the Slytherin empire.

I couldn't begin to describe that feeling. After months of being the only Slytherin in a hundred miles, here I was, with an army of Slytherin soldiers below. Somewhere down there was my father.

I urged my horse into a gallop. May father! My people! I was ecstatic; it nearly brought tears to my eyes. I was free! I wasn't alone!

"What do you think you're doing?!" Snape demanded. "Do you think you can just go barging into that camp? They're soldiers on enemy land! They're prepared for attack!"

We took it slowly after that. It seemed to take days, when in reality it probably only took a few hours to descend into the valley. They were waiting for us when we reached the bottom, bows and swords at the ready.

"Put you're weapons down, soldiers," Snape said. "It is I, Severus Snape, our Lord's loyal servant. I bring with his son, Prince Draco." At that they lowered their weapons and fell into bows. "Take us to the king."

Walking through the tent city was inconceivable. Rows upon rows of canvas flapping in the wind, tents lining worn and muddy paths. From the veil of the openings, ragged and dilapidated soldiers in torn and faintly bloodstained uniforms stared up at us. It was easy to differentiate those who had hope and those who had lost it. Those in which hope still lingered had a certain fight in their eyes. The eyes of those who had given up were dull. They had more of a stoop in their backs and a lag in their step. It was far harder to find soldiers with life in their eyes.

The guards brought us to the opening of a tent far larger than those of the rest. From the top of it flew a green and silver flag, bloodstained and tattered, the edges blackened and burned. One of the guards stepped forward and drew back the curtain.

His back was to me. They were bent over a table studying strategy, my father and his advisor. My mouth dried up and I couldn't speak. Tears forced their way into my eyes. My father. I was seeing my father. We were finally reunited after all my struggles to reach him.

Snape cleared his throat. "Sire."

My father looked up and his eyes connected with mine. He opened his mouth, but like me was unable to say anything. He eyes were rimmed with red and he seemed to have aged a hundred years. His mouth was tight, like he hadn't smiled in a lifetime. Abandoning any and all poise, I rushed over to him, throwing my arms around him. He wrapped his strong arms around me. I buried my head in his shoulder and breathed in the scent of dirt and despair. A shaking hand rose and ran across my hair. "Draco," he whispered.

"Father," I replied. "It has been horrible. I thought I would never make it here! Put me on the slave market, they did!" Color rose to my cheeks, the shame of admitting my slavery setting in. I was a prince, and my father was a king! Slavery was simply absurd. He stroked my hair again, not saying anything. We had never been like this. My father had always been distant to me, never playing or laughing or hardly even speaking with me. But then, in that dismal and shabby little tent, we were closer than we had ever been. We were one, strong and united, a source of hope and delight for each other, the bringers of elation and joy.

He stepped away from me, holding me at arm's length. I knew he was taking in the cuts and the bruises. The humiliation was creeping up again. I cast my eyes downward, staring hard at the floor. He hummed low in the back of his throat and let go of my shoulders. "What ever happened to you, Draco?" he whispered, shaking his head. "Never mind that. You need rest. Severus, my loyal servant, stay and I will speak with you. Zabini, take Draco to a tent and see to it that he is fed and comfortable."

Out of the shadows stepped a man dressed in humble, ambiguous clothes. I hadn't even noticed him standing there; I'd been too focused on my father. I ran at him and threw my arms around him. He awkwardly raised his hand to pat me on the back. I quickly let go. This kind of behavior between servant and master was frowned upon. My father was staring with an impassive look on his face.

Out in the blaring sunlight of the valley, I wrapped my arms around my faithful servant again. There was a thick scar running across the dark skin of his cheek. He was thinner, gaunter, but he was still my Blaise. One of my closest and only friends. "Blaise!" I exclaimed, my heart beating wildly in my chest. "I thought for sure you were dead! How did you survive?"

"I got out of the city and managed to make my way to your father. And what of you? Where have you been all this time?" He lifted a tent flap and allowed me to step inside. It was small, but it had a cot bed and a water basin for washing and those two things seemed like heaven at the moment. I collapsed onto the bed, spreading my arms wide. It felt amazing to lie on something even remotely soft after days of sleeping on the hard mountain ground.

"Oh it's been just horrible! I was stuck in the Gryffindor countryside for months! Sold to a family as a slave! I had to assume a fake name so they wouldn't kill me! I've been cooking and cleaning for them for months! Can you imagine that? Me, a servant! Doing housework!" Blaise chuckled and shook his head. "Help me into the bath, will you? I haven't been clean for ages."

I stood up and allowed Blaise to help me slip out of the muddy, bloodstained shirt. Harry's shirt. My chest hurt thinking about him. How I had just left him, without a warning or a word. Granted, I'd been in prison, but still. Was he looking for me? Did he think me dead?

I slipped out of my trousers and put one leg into the bathwater. It was only lukewarm, but it felt like ecstasy. I slid in up to my neck, sighing blissfully. My eyelids fluttered shut and Blaise poured the water over my head, his fingers sliding through my hair, washing away the grime.

"You're covered in bruises, Master Draco," he fussed. "What happened to you?"

"It was horrible," I whispered. "He found out, the master of the house. The Black man. Sirius Black. He found out who I was and he beat me. He kicked me and hit me." I could picture the scene behind my eyelids, I could feel the pain. "He took me away. To Gryffindor Castle. Snape rescued me from the prison cells. Who is he?" Who _was_ he? I'd never seen him before, nor heard any mention of him.

"I don't know. I've never seen him before."

We sat in silence for a long while, Blaise's nimble fingers working through my hair, massaging my scalp. "It wasn't all terrible," I mused. "Living with the Gryffindor family. Not everything was terrible. There was a boy. Harry was his name. Harry Potter. He was nice. Attractive. A tad bit awkward, but still sweet non-the-less."

"Does Master Draco fancy someone?" Blaise asked with a teasing sneer.

"He does," I replied, my lips twitching into a smile. "Good kisser, Harry was. Excellent really. I'll miss that."

Blaise was holding my wrist in his hand, running a bar of soap over my arm. If I was still with Harry, would he have come to touch me with such tender care? Would his touches have been intimate, like Blaise's had been once, or like those of the ambassador's son, Theodore Nott? Would he have run his fingers through my hair and touched me gently, or would he have been fiercer, more controlling, wanting more?

I would never know. Harry was gone now, just a memory of a boy who once was. Just a fragment of something that could never have been. He was a Gryffindor commoner and I a Slytherin Prince. I was foolish to ever get involved. Nothing could have ever happened between us. It was forbidden. Not to mention the fact that we were both men.

I let Blaise continue running the bar of soap over my body. My thoughts drifted off into nothingness. I sat there, not thinking, not talking, just simply being. The water grew colder and colder and eventually Blaise helped me out of the tub and wrapped me in a great big blanket and slid me into bed. I was like a child, having to be helped and assisted with everything. I did not respond or talk. I only was.

Harry was gone now. I had to except that. He was gone from me, only a small piece of a dark time in my life. If I tried, I could chalk him up to my imagination. I had to move on. There were things to be done. Plans to be set in place. A war to win. I was free and I was with my people. Because this may have been a horrid rat hole of a city, but I was home.

**Author's Note**-Hello all you lovely folks! It's good to update again! That nagging weight had been lifted from my shoulders!

I really have no excuse this time, except that I have been busy watching a lot of Sherlock and Doctor Who. I never said I wasn't lazy.

I hoped you liked this chapter. It's probably one of my favorites I think. Please review and tell me your thoughts. Thanks for reading!


	27. Reunited

**Title-**Harry Potter and the Slytherin Slave

**Author-**CarsonLuke

**Rating-**M for swearing, dark themes, and my paranoia.

**Story Summary-** AU. Draco Malfoy was a Prince. Harry was a peasant. What will happen when Draco's country is invaded and he is capture and sold into slavery, only to be bought by none other than Harry himself. How long can he hide his true identity? And what about his growing feelings for his young master? Warning: Slash.

**Chapter Summary-**Harry and Draco are reunited and have a little bit of 'alone time.'

**Disclaimer-**The magnificent Draco and the others all belong to JK.

**Chapter Twenty-Six-Reunited**

_~Harry~_

Alastor Moody, or as I had grown accustomed to calling him, Mad-Eye Moody, did most of the talking. We had been riding for six days, and he was still going on about how foolish this journey was and how he was only taking me to the Gryffindor border.

"There's no way I'm venturing into any Slytherin camps," he said for the hundredth time. "I ain't stupid like you, boy. If you had any sense in you, you'd turn back now. Once you go into that camp you're never coming back out alive."

I just rolled my eyes and pretended not to hear him. As we came closer to Draco, I became less interested in what Mad-Eye had to say. All I could think about were Draco's pale eyes, his soft hair, and the fact that I maybe, possibly loved him. Every time I thought about that, I began to feel queasy. It was a big thing, love. What if I didn't really love him, and I ruined everything? What if I told him I loved him and he didn't feel the same way?

I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and squinted into the harsh sun that was beginning to set on the edge of the horizon, running away, and I was running after it, trying to catch it, because if I could catch the sun surely I could catch Draco Malfoy.

Mad-Eye stopped. "I won't take you any further. We're too close for my liking. The Slytherin army should be about a mile away, nestled in the valley between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. Go in declaring surrender loudly, or they'll shoot you on sight. I'm not guaranteeing they won't shoot you regardless. Good luck, Potter." And with that, he tugging his reigns and set his horse on the path back home.

I stared at the setting sun. Somewhere over there, nestled between two small mountain ranges, was my prince. I set my horse to a gallop. I was so close. I could feel him, sense his presence. And suddenly there was the city. A thousand tents, huddled in confined masses along dirt paths, tattered and bloodstained flags flying in the wind. I dismounted and cautiously led my horse down the path towards the camp. Already, soldiers and marksmen had their weapons pointed at me.

"Who goes there?" someone called out.

"Don't shoot, I come to Slytherin empire in peace. I'm looking for Prince Draco Malfoy. My name is Harry. Harry Potter. Can you tell him I'm here?" I shouted back.

They watched me skeptically, not lowering their weapons, but one of them ran off along the muddy path.

I took a deep breath, standing up taller and running a hand through my hair in an attempt to fix it. I laughed to myself. I was trying to make myself look more attractive for Draco. But this was it. This was the moment I had been waiting for. I was going to see Draco again.

_~Draco~_

The water lapped against my skin. My head was tilted back, hanging over the edge of the tub and my arms were dangling over the sides. I let out a soft breath. Everything was slowly falling back into place. This was not a castle. I only had a large tent to live in, but I was waited on and adored. I was the master, not the servant.

"Master Draco, someone is here for you," Blaise said, interrupting my thoughts. I flicked open my eyes. Blaise was standing by the door, looking me in the eye. If it had been anyone else, they would not have been permitted to look me in the eye, but Blaise wasn't just any servant. He was a friend.

"Send them away," I sighed. "I'm not in the mood to talk."

"It's not a Slytherin, Sir. He says his name is Harry something. I think that's what the guards said."

I sat up so suddenly that water went sloshing out of the tub onto the floor. I swung my legs out of the tub, ignoring the rising goose bump, and grabbed a towel. "Help me get dressed!" I shouted. I struggled into my pants and buttoned my shirt hastily as Blaise combed my hair and placed my silver crown upon my head. I tugged my shoes on and ran out the door, Blaise racing after me. My eyes flew around wilding, scanning for that untidy mop of black hair. Could it be? Could Harry really be here? I rounded a corner and stopped dead in my tracks. There he was, hair sticking up, holding the rope of a tan horse. The idiot was even wearing a bloody Gryffindor shirt. "Potter," I said, my voice shaking.

He smiled a goofy lopsided smile that made my heart melt. It was really him. Somehow, he'd found me, even though I'd left no note, no clue as to where I was going.

"Lower your weapons," I commanded and the guards did so unwillingly. "He's a friend. Come with me, Potter."

_~Harry~_

I followed Draco down the weather beaten paths of the tent city. His hair was dripping, his shirt was wrinkled, he had a crown on his head, and he had never been cuter. I couldn't believe it. Here he was. I had truly believed I would never see him again, but here he was. My prince, my Draco. A dark skinned man with a scar on his cheek took my horse and led him away. I followed Draco into a tent that was larger than my room. There was a large bed with plenty of pillows and sheets on it, and a bathtub that still held water in the corner. Draco walked over and sat on the corner of his bed. I sat down next to him.

"How did you find me?" he whispered, titled his head up and looking me in the eye. His grey eyes were wide like he still couldn't believe I was here.

"The Gryffindor king knows about the camp. Don't worry, he doesn't plan on attacking. He wants peace," I said, running my hand through his wet hair. "I missed you."

"I missed you too," he breathed.

"How did you get a bed?" I asked.

He laughed. "We're seeing each other for the first time after I was taken to prison and that's what you want to know? My father had it made for me. We may be living in a hellhole with no real kingdom left, but royalty still gets treated like royalty."

I ran my thumb over a fading yellow bruise on his face. "You're a prince here, eh?" I leaned forward and kissed him on the lips before he could answer. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed me back fiercely. He tugged at me and I fell forward onto him. I laid sprawled out across his bed with him underneath me. He kissed me softly, tugging at my lip with his teeth and I was suddenly all too aware of both my body and his and the way the where touching in so many places. I felt the blush creeping up my neck as I fidgeted around trying to find a better way to lay without letting him know I was beginning to get aroused.

This was new. I'd never been this close to someone. Certainly not a boy. I was confident I knew what to do with a girl, but Sirius had never talked to me about what to do with a boy. Not that it was going that far. I mean, all we were doing was kissing. And laying. And Draco was running his fingers down my sides. But nothing else was happening. I wasn't even sure if he would want to. I wasn't even sure if _I _would want to. And even if he _did_ want to have sex, I wasn't sure _how _he would want it.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked quietly, his hot breath ghosting across my nose.

My blush deepened. "Nothing." I propped myself up on my elbows. His hair has ruffled and wet and his crown was sliding down onto his forehead. "Nice crown."

He shrugged, taking it off and setting it on the bedside table. "It's not mine. It's a spare of my father's. Mine was lost in the fire."

I kissed him softly again. He ran his fingers down my chest to my hips and I felt myself getting hard. I settled down with his slightly smaller form beneath me, my thighs between his legs. He smirked slightly and I knew he was aware of my erection. He buried his fingers in my hair and brought my mouth crashing down on his. His tongue slid over mine. My heart was racing wildly. I tentatively brought my fingers down to rest on his hips where his shirt was riding up and a small section of his skin was exposed. His skin was soft and warm and still a little bit damp. He sucked in a breath and kissed my neck. I slid my fingers underneath his shirt, my hand splayed out over his chest.

"I see you're getting acquainted with our guest, Draco," a slow, drawling voice said. I jerked away, sitting up, still situated between Draco's legs. He tugged his shirt down and propped himself up on his elbows looking mortified. A tall man with shoulder length pale blonde hair and a regal face with high cheekbones stood near the door to Draco's tent. He turned his cool eyes on me disapprovingly. "I am Draco's father, Lucius Malfoy, King of Slytherin."

I glanced at Draco and I knew he was thinking the same thing. We had just been walked in on by the King, and this was not going to be good.

**Author's Note-**Hi guys! I've finally updated! No excuse this time. I simply forgot. Stupid me.

So, I attempted a little smut. I hope it wasn't an epic fail. That isn't my area of writing expertise. Don't hate me if it sucked. I didn't think it was too bad, but maybe I'm just being nice to myself.

I'm sad because I haven't been getting many reviews for the last two chapters. I assume that was because Harry and Draco were apart so hopefully you guys will review this chapter and make me super happy! Tell me what you liked, tell me if the smut sucked. Make me feel better and tell me it didn't. Just kidding. Tell me the truth. If it sucked, it sucked, right?

Well, I hope you guys liked this chapter! Glad they're back together! Thanks for reading!


	28. To Love You

**Title-**Harry Potter and the Slytherin Slave

**Author-**CarsonLuke

**Rating-**M for swearing, dark themes, and my paranoia.

**Story Summary-** AU. Draco Malfoy was a Prince. Harry was a peasant. What will happen when Draco's country is invaded and he is capture and sold into slavery, only to be bought by none other than Harry himself. How long can he hide his true identity? And what about his growing feelings for his young master? Warning: Slash.

**Chapter Summary-**Draco fights with his father and he and Harry take the next step.

**Disclaimer-**The magnificent Draco and the others all belong to JK.

**Warning-**By taking the next step, I mean exactly what you're thinking. This chapter has mature content and is the reason for the M rating. If you don't like, don't read. Also, this is my first real 'mature' scene, so bear with me if it's not very good.

**Chapter Twenty-Seven-To Love You**

_~Draco~_

I crossed my legs and arms and stared across the table with a feigned uninterested look. Harry was sitting across from me, his arms dangling at his sides, staring down at the table. My father sat at the head of the table, his mouth set in a hard line, his eyes squinted at Harry with distaste.

I sighed audibly. "Father, if you're not going to speak then-"

"Hush Draco. I am not pleased with you. What on earth were you doing-" he paused, searching for the correct word, "-_fooling_ about with this peasant. A Gryffindor peasant! Honestly Draco, have you no shame?"

Harry's jaw was clenched and I could see that he was becoming angry with this criticism.

"I'm sorry Father," I answered, trying to appear nonchalant when in all reality my heart was pounding one hundred miles a second. My father was ashamed, and that had always made me nervous. Add to that the fact that he could have Harry executed.

"Sorry?" he asked incredously. "What in Slytherin's name were you thinking? Of course. That must be it. You weren't thinking. He's-he's a _boy_!" His voice lowered significantly at this. "You're a prince! Think about your image! You have to produce an heir! You have always known that you were to marry Astoria. I don't care what you do behind closed doors, but you have to maintain you image and produce an heir!"

"Father, I don't care about Astoria!" I exclaimed, exasperated. "She's dreadfully dim and I hate her. I do not want to be with her. Besides, I've done a lot behind closed doors that would appall you. I've had sex." Harry choked and my father looked at him with murderous rage. "Not with Potter, with people who came to the castle."

"Draco!" Father shouted. "Where is all this coming from? This is not how princes are to act! You are disgracing the family name! You are disgracing me!"

My retort died in my mouth. I felt my walls come tumbling down and my eyes began to sting. "I'm sorry," I whispered. "I didn't know. I can't help it and if it disgusts you, I'm sorry. Mother wouldn't have cared. Mother would have been okay with me. But I'm not good enough for you. I'll never be good enough. Because I'm not fucking perfect, alright?" My voice had risen to a scream. "I'm not you, Father! I don't want to be just like you! I'm a disappointment, a disgrace. I can't help it; I fucking love Potter!" I blurted it out without thinking, without pausing to wonder if it was true but I knew in that second it was. He was stupid and a bloody idiot and he embodied the entire meaning of Gryffindor with a fucking red and gold bow on top but I still loved him. There was never really a question about it at all. "I love him. And I'll never be good enough for you. I'll never be king material in your eyes. But if being king means I can't have Potter, then I don't want to be. I don't want to be king. I want Harry."

My voice didn't waver and my eyes were dry. My father's mouth was hanging open slightly and he wasn't moving. I looked away from him and took a step towards the door. I broke out into a run, not looking over my shoulder. I tore down the streets, bumping into soldiers struggling to get out of my way. I flew open the flap to tent and stumbled in. Seconds later Harry entered, breathless and wide eyed. I turned to face him and, taking in the look on his face, the raw emotion in his eyes, I knew he was saying it though his lips never parted. He felt the same way. He loved me. I crashed my mouth onto his and I knew.

_~Harry~_

Draco was clawing desperately at my back, his fingers slipped under my shirt searching frantically for traction. His words kept echoing in my head like my heart beat, _'I love him, I love him, I love him, I love him, I love him.'_ Nothing else mattered except Draco. I loved him so much it hurt my heart.

I broke away gasping for air. Draco's face was wet, streaked with tears. He kissed my lips recklessly multiple times, tugging me forwards. He bumped into the edge of the bed and tumbled backwards, dragging me with. He dragged my head down to his and hitched his legs around my hips and I could feel him straining against me. "I want you," he whispered as he sloppily kissed my neck, my jaw, my shoulders. "I _need_ you. I need to feel you, Harry." He was struggling with my shirt, trying to tug it up and over my head.

"Draco," I said. "You're emotional. I don't know if this is a good idea." Despite my words, my hand was roaming down his chest.

"Shut up, Potter," he whimpered. "I don't care. I need it. I need you."

"I haven't-I've never done this before," I whispered, blushing. Draco was experienced at sex, I knew. What if I wasn't good enough for him? He had just said he was willing to give up the throne to be with me. What if I disappointed him and he didn't want me anymore?

"It doesn't matter." Tears were still streaming down his face freely and his eyes were red and puffy. "I don't care. I just need to feel you. I love you. I need you." His voice was desperate. I looked down at him, splayed across the bed, his silver hair framing his face, sticking to his tears. He was so beautiful and I loved him.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

He nodded.

I kissed him softly and set his crown on the floor. I helped him out of his shirt. He was pale and boney, fading yellow bruises across his abdomen. Never in my life had I seen someone so gorgeous. I picked him up and settled him further up the bed, his head on the pillow. I kissed him softly, but Draco quickly turned it into something wilder. He finally managed to get my shirt over my head, his fingers scratching all the way up my spine.

"Harry," he was whispering, over and over again. "Harry, please. I need this." I sat back and looked at him. My stomach was clenched with nerves. I was worried about not being good enough, but I couldn't say no, even if I wanted to. My erection was straining against my trousers, needing attention. Draco reached out and palmed it through my pants. I let out a low moan at the new sensation.

I sat up and slowly undid Draco's belt, trying to get his pants down. He assisted me by lifting his hips. My mouth was dry. I could clearly see his cock creating a tent in his boxers. I slipped my fingers under the waistband and felt his smooth hips. I pulled them down excruciatingly slow. Draco whimpered and I became even harder. Suddenly he was laying before me, completely exposed. He was so beautiful, his pale skin stretching out for miles.

My erection was becoming unbearable, but I didn't remove my pants just yet. I laid my hand on his thigh and, as his breath hitched, moved to cover his cock. He was slightly smaller than myself and I felt awkward wrapping my hand around the base, but he let out a guttural moan so I figured I was doing something right. His eyes fluttered shut as I began to move my hand up and down. His mouth was open in an 'o' and he was quietly groaning in pleasure.

When I couldn't take it any longer, I pulled back, even though he whined with dissatisfaction. I quickly got rid of my pants and threw my boxers on the floor. Draco was staring at me, his eyes wide, tears still staining his beautiful face. He pushed me sideways, onto my back and kissed his way down my chest. I tangled my hands in his gorgeous hair, tipping my head down to see what he was doing. He kissed at my hips, biting and sucking. His head wavered over my erection before he suddenly licked up the length of my cock. I moaned so loud I'm sure people across camp could hear. He slowly took me into his mouth, coating my cock in hot, wet pleasure. I felt myself scrape the back of his throat. I didn't move, unsure of what one was supposed to do in this situation, only knowing it felt like bliss. Then he began to move his mouth up and down, occasional bring my cock out of his mouth all the way with a pop, only to lower his head again.

Just when I thought I was going to come, he pulled away and crawled back up to kiss me on the lips. I flipped him onto his back, reveling in the glorious friction. He looked me in the eyes and nodded. All my nerves came rushing back to me and I opened my mouth awkwardly. "I don't know what to do."

He was laying under me, his legs wrapped around my hips loosely. "I'll guide you," he said. He took one of my hands and brought around to his back, sliding it down the crease of his ass. I bit my lip as I slid a finger in while my other hand cupped his ass. He clenched his teeth at first, but when he got used to it, he told me to slide in another finger, and then another. I moved them around for a short while, reveling in the look of rapture on his face. I pulled out and lined my cock up. My heart was racing a million miles an hour. Propping myself up above him, I licked my lips and pushed in slightly. One of his hands gripped the sheets tightly and the other dug into my back. It was so hot and tight, and it took everything I had not to push in just then. I tried to concentrate on his face, his beautiful eyes that were still wet with tears. I kissed him softly on the lips.

"I'm okay," Draco whispered. "Please keep going."

I pushed in further, falling down on top of him. I held him while I thrust into him, his fingers raking up my back, drawing blood. I kissed him over and over again, telling him I loved him and that he was beautiful. My brain was clouded and everything became a swirl of tongues and emotions and I was lost in it all.

**Author's Note-**Sex….

I don't know if that was a very good sex scene. I have nothing to compare it to, and it was the only real sex scene I've ever written. I was very nervous about uploading it but I decided to because I felt like it needed to happen in the plot. It is also my little treat to you as it took me a while to update and I don't know if I'll update again this month because I've got finals coming up in school.

This time, I actually have real reasons why it took my so long to update. I had to write seven essays because I am applying for the National Honors Society in school. I also took my ACT for the first time (I am a high school sophomore) and I got a 27!

Please please please please review and tell me your thoughts on this chapter because I am very nervous about it. Love you all!


	29. We Do Not Yield

**Title-**Harry Potter and the Slytherin Slave

**Author-**CarsonLuke

**Rating-**M for swearing, dark themes, and my paranoia.

**Story Summary-** AU. Draco Malfoy was a Prince. Harry was a peasant. What will happen when Draco's country is invaded and he is capture and sold into slavery, only to be bought by none other than Harry himself. How long can he hide his true identity? And what about his growing feelings for his young master? Warning: Slash.

**Chapter Summary-**Draco's father speaks to him about the future of Slytherin.

**Disclaimer-**The magnificent Draco and the others all belong to JK.

**Chapter Twenty-Eight-We Do Not Yield **

_~Draco~_

I slowly swam back into consciousness, faintly aware of a form behind me radiating heat. I rolled over and slowly opened my eyes, blinking leisurously. Harry was lying on his side, his hair sticking up on ends. A hazy smile dominated my features as I snuggled into his chest. He wrapped a protective arm around me, dragging his fingers down my spine. I shivered and kissed his neck softly.

"So was it okay?" he asked awkwardly.

I nodded, my hair brushing his chin. I titled my head up to look at him. I smiled wildly and he mimicked me. I giggled and flopped onto my back. "This is crazy," I whispered. "I love you."

"Oh thanks," he replied. "Loving me is crazy."

I hit him softly on the chest. "Not like that you idiot. I meant everything that has happened. It really hasn't been that long since the auction." At the mention of the slave auction, Harry automatically held me tighter to him.

"A few months," he agreed. He kissed the top of my head. I grabbed his ass, causing him to jump. "Draco!" he cried, seizing my wrists and holding them above my head.

I laughed and nipped at his neck. He rolled over on top of me, pinning me down. He sloppily kissed my cheek, slobbering on me. "Stop it, Harry!" I insisted, yanking my head away. "You're nasty! You're spitting on me!"

He kept doing it, kissing my cheek, my neck, and my nose. I was laughing, rolling around, getting tangled in the sheets. Harry ended up on his back, holding me gently by the hips as I sat on him I was breathing heavily, my sides aching from laughter. Red marks had risen on his chest from my teeth. "I love you," he stated.

"You're hot," I said.

"Master Draco, you need to get dressed," Blaise said from the doorway. I quickly got off Harry, covering us with the sheets. Blaise was looking at the ground. Harry was blushing like a fool. "Your father wants to speak with you."

"I don't want to speak with him, Blaise," I moaned. "Can't you see that I'm busy?"

"Yes, Draco, I can see that, but if you don't go to your Father, he will come in here and see what you've been doing," Blaise answered pointedly.

I sighed, knowing he was right. I swung my legs out of bed and stood up, the sheets sliding from around my waist. "Draco!" Harry hissed.

"What?" I asked. "Blaise doesn't care; he's seen me a million times. You should go out so I can gossip with Blaise about you. He will call you a servant to take you somewhere you can bathe."

Harry frowned, looking slightly upset, but he nodded and allowed Blaise to show him out after he had dressed. When he was gone, Blaise filled the tub and helped me in. As he ran the soap through my hair, he raised his eyebrows. "Draco, your father knows what you did."

"I don't care," I said. "I slept with Harry. So what?"

"He is not happy. On my way to wake you, I could hear him screaming at his squire that he needed an heir. I suggest you prepare yourself now." Blaise moved behind me, out of sight. He pushed me forward so he could scrub at my back. He was not overly kind; the rough sponge stung as he scraped it around the nail marks Harry had left across my back. I ground my teeth together as Blaise scrubbed my skin raw. When he helped me out, I stood before him, skin slightly pink, scratch marks and love bites rising all over my skin, dripping a steady trail of water onto the floor. Blaise made quick work of drying me off and dressing me in fine silk garbs that my father had sent over. The soft black pants were slightly too long for me, and the green shirt trimmed with silver slightly too wide, but they were a vast improvement from the Gryffindor rags I had become accustomed to wearing. Blaise took out a bottle of pale powder and rubbed it on my neck, trying to cover up the hickeys. He narrowed his eyes at me. "I hope the sex was worth it, because these are never going to be covered. You're too pale and they stand out like cherries in the snow."

I ignored his jibe, smiling blissfully at the thought of Harry. "Oh it was magnificent. He was so gently and sweet. It was so much better than with Nott. Nott was rough. He wanted to get his pleasure quickly and leave. He never wanted to look at my face either. It was just perfect with Harry. He was so hot and awkward and it just just…amazing." I let out a content sigh as Blaise rubbed scented oils onto my wrists. "I'm in love," I told him.

Blaise cocked an eyebrow. "Are you truly?"

"Yes," I told him, a bit offended that he would question my feelings for Potter.

"Last night isn't clouding your senses?" He settled the overlarge crown on my head, brushing stray hairs into place.

"No," I said indignantly.

"What about your duties? What about the throne you are to inherit?" he asked.

"I don't care about the throne. I don't want it. I only want Harry." I was pouting and I didn't care. Why was Blaise doubtful of my love for Harry?

"Draco, you've wanted the throne your entire life. You've wanted Harry for mere months. Do you really think you could give up your claim to the throne for a Gryffindor boy? If you did where would you go? You're father would be so upset he would probably banish you from Slytherin. If he didn't, Harry wouldn't want to stay there. Who would, it's a mess. You wouldn't be welcome in Gryffindor even though it's Harry's homeland. Hufflepuff wouldn't want you either. Ravenclaw might let you in if they didn't know you were a Malfoy, which is hard to cover up with those wrists of yours. Also, what would happen to Slytherin? If your father managed to get back to Slytherin and have a new castle built, he would have no heir. When he died, there would be no one to inherit the throne, and Slytherin would crumble again. Tell me Draco, can you really give it up?"

I had no answer. Doubt was creeping into my chest. Could I really, _truly_ give up my claim to the throne? If I did, I would be poor, and I would have to live on a farm or something, most likely with Harry's family, and that hadn't gone well the first time. Could I give it all up? I wanted to say yes, because I loved Harry. I knew I loved Harry. I had never felt this way towards anyone I'd been with, and I'd been with many people. But, I couldn't force myself to say yes because I knew it wasn't entirely true. I wasn't willing to give up my privileged life. Even here in the tent city, I was treated better than I had been in Gryffindor. I couldn't give it all up, but neither could I give up Harry.

Without an answer, I stood up. "I had better not keep my father waiting any longer," I mumbled. "I can see myself to his tent," I added when Blaise began to rise. I spun around swept through the flaps of the tent. The sun was beating down heavily. Men were rushing past, sweaty and dirty. Summer had ended and fall was here, but it still remained dreadfully hot in the valley between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw.

I began to walk briskly towards my father's tent. The longer I kept him waiting, the angrier he would become. It was true that I did not need an escort; my father's tent was not hard to find. It was a massive square thing made of silver linens, the green crest of Malfoy flying from top most peak. In all honesty, it wasn't really my father's tent. It didn't house his bedchamber or his things. All it housed was a large table and chairs used for meetings with his military leaders and political advocates.

I pushed open the tent flap uneasily. My father was seated at the far end, staring down at a map of the realm. Standing a ways behind him was the greasy, hook-nosed man that had brought me here. Snape was his name, and I still had no idea who he was. My father didn't look up when I entered, but Snape stared, his black eyes seeming to stare into my soul, picking me apart.

I hesitantly took a seat at the opposite end of the table as my father. Better to place adequate space between us for when he became angry. "Father," I said timidly. "I am here. You wanted to speak?"

He looked up, seeing me for the first time. He looked old. Older than he'd ever looked. His face was drawn, displaying no sign of his mood. "Draco. Yes. I summoned you an hour ago."

"I had to bathe, sir," I told him nervously. "And I had to get dressed."

"Yes, you would have to bathe, seeing what you did last night." His voice was even, no emotion laced through it. His eyes searched my face. I did not answer. After a long moment he said, "Draco, I am not allowing you to give up your claim to the throne. When I die, you must carry Slytherin on. You are the last of the Malfoy line, all which is left of our blood. You cannot forsake us."

"Yes Father," I said, "but what of Harry?"

"You will be married. An heir must be produced," he went on, ignoring my question. "The Malfoy line must continue. If it ends, Slytherin ends as well. We are not weak. Destroying the capitol will not destroy the people. There are thousands of Slytherin villages still alive and flourishing within our lands. The Gryffindors continue to search for us in Slytherin, not knowing we are situated right at their doorstep, hidden in plain sight. We survive off small portions of food smuggled to us here in the valley. We are Slytherin." He looked me in the eye. "We do not yield.

"The old man of Gryffindor talks of peace. Peace between our nations." For the first time, he put emotion into his voice. It was contempt. "He talks of peace, only because he believes he has won. He thinks he's destroyed us. He thinks he has us cornered. I will tell you again, we do not yield_._" My father stood up suddenly, his chair falling backwards. He pounded his fist against the table top. My heart was racing. My father often became angry, but I had not seen him this angry before. He was raging, all his anger about the war over the years pouring out. "_WE DO NOT YIELD!"_ he screamed. "The old man thought he could buy peace with an offering. He sent me you. He thought returned my bloodline would make me want peace. All he achieved is not forcing me to storm his castle. He _helped_ me. I want no peace. I want _revenge._ All Gryffindors are the same. They must all be killed for what they have done to us."

"They're not all the same," I told him. He glared at me and I shrunk back. Quietly I continued. "What about Harry? Harry isn't the same. Harry doesn't want to hurt me. Harry doesn't want to hurt us."

My Father let out a harsh laugh. He crossed the length of the tent in four strides and slapped me, hard, across the face. I opened my mouth, shocked, and touched my cheek. My father placed one hand on either side of me, keeping me from escaping. "You are corrupted. You have feelings for him and you can't see the truth. He will destroy you. He will destroy everything I have built for you. Instead of using your brain, you lie in bed with him and take him like a cheap whore!"

Tears began welling up in my eyes again. "I'm not-I'm not a whore," I whimpered. I was afraid. I was truly afraid of my father, like I had never been before. "I love him. I _love him_, Father!"

He slapped me again. "You love being fucked by him," he told me scathingly. "I don't care what you do behind closed doors once you've produced an heir, as long as you do it with a Slytherin. The boy is a Gryffindor! They killed your mother!" he screamed. "They killed my _wife!"_ His chest was heaving, but the wild shine of anger was fading fast from his eyes. "They killed my wife," he repeated softly. "They killed Narcissa." I had never seen him express any affection for my mother. I had always assumed their marriage did not contain much love. Tears welled up in the corner of his eyes, but they did not fall. My father did not cry, no matter the circumstance. The anger had seeped out of him, leaving him looking deflated and tired. He softly touched my cheek where he had hit me. I flinched away, but he brushed his knuckles lightly across my flesh. I softly touched my hair, then wiped the tears of my face with the back of his hand. He grasped my chin gently and made me look at him. His hairline was receeding and he had lost a lot of weight. His cheeks were gaunt and hollow. "You _must_ carry on Slytherin, my son," he whispered.

The tent flap was thrown open. My father's general stood in the doorway, breathing heavily. "Sire," he gasped out, "Gryffindor armies have been spotted. They'll reach the mountain crest within the hour. They took a concealed passage. They know we're here."

My father stood and back away from me. He looked at Snape, who was still standing in the same place, and met his eyes. Then he turned and met mine. I could see that he had already made up his mind, and there was no changing him. "We do not yield."

**Author's Note -** Uh oh, shits going down.

Sorry it took my so long to update guys! I finished school at the end of May and meant to update then, but I got tendonitis from typing and working on my art. When my arm felt better, I worked on my art a lot and I started reading A Game Of Thrones and hanging out with my boyfriend a lot, and I've just been _lazy!_ I am super sorry! I hope this longish chapter will make it up to you guys! Please review and tell me how you feel about it!

Also, sadly, we are reaching the climax. I don't have it entirely planned out, because I didn't plan out any of this story. I just let my mind take me where it needed to go. But, I know the general climax, and how things will proceed from there. Because of this, I believe the story will be wrapping up in a bit. Which makes me really sad. My rough estimate says there probably will be ten more chapters at most. Don't kill me if I'm way off.

Once again, tell me your thoughts, or yell at me for taking forever to update.


	30. A Thousand Stars

**Title-**Harry Potter and the Slytherin Slave

**Author-**CarsonLuke

**Rating-**M for swearing, dark themes, and my paranoia.

**Story Summary-** AU. Draco Malfoy was a Prince. Harry was a peasant. What will happen when Draco's country is invaded and he is capture and sold into slavery, only to be bought by none other than Harry himself. How long can he hide his true identity? And what about his growing feelings for his young master? Warning: Slash.

**Chapter Summary-**The battle breaks out in the valley between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw.

**Disclaimer-**The magnificent Draco and the others all belong to JK.

**Chapter Twenty-Nine-A Thousand Stars **

_~Harry~_

The camp was a frenzied mess in a matter of moments. Soldiers were running rampant, strapping armor on and grabbing swords, bows, and battleaxes. Mares and stallions were being mounted and captains shouted orders. A chestnut stallion carrying one of Draco's father's banner men rode past at a gallop, sending chunks of dirt flying in his wake.

I stood in the midst of all this, being jostled about as I tried to make my way back to Draco's tent. I had no idea what was going on. One moment the camp had been mostly asleep, soldiers just beginning to crawl out of their tents. It had suddenly sprung to life with a fever that cried battle. Battle against what, I wasn't sure.

I was shoved into a man wearing green and silver squire robes by a large knight donning a crossbow. "What's going on?" I asked the squire, raising my voice to yell over all of the commotion.

"Get your sword, the Gryffindors are marching on us, and they'll have the high ground." The young boy's eyes shone with terror. "I must go, my Lord needs to be garbed in his armor."

I took off after the boy, hoping to be lead to Draco and his father. I shoved past men going all directions, each seeming more anxious or more confused or more afraid than the last. Everything was a blur of color and sound, my eyes fixed only on the silver shirt of the servant I was chasing. He led me to the great pavilion Lord Lucius's tent occupied. The servant boy rushed inside carrying a large sheathed sword. I ducked inside seconds later. Three servants rushed about, strapping shining silver armor carved with a thousand miniature striking snakes onto the throneless king. A long, elegant green cape with the sigil of house Malfoy embroidered in the center was pinned to his shoulders. His snowy white hair tumbled over his shoulders, longer than that of his only son. The king did not cry out in fear of the attacking army or show any sign of trepidation. His hard jaw line was set. His pale eyes did not shine with emotion. The young squire knelt before him, presenting his sword. The king drew the greatsword from its sheath. The handle was encrusted with emeralds that sparkled as the light glanced off of it. The blade rippled with power. Draco's father looked the part of a vengeful king.

Draco himself was standing in the corner, the greasy haired Snape by his side. He saw me and unlike his father, fear shown in his eyes. I went to him and took his hand in mine. "What do we do?" I asked him.

Draco looked at me and I understood. There was a very real chance we were not getting out of here. If by some wild chance we remained alive, Draco would be sold into slavery again or thrown in prison. I could claim to be a prisoner of war, but there was no guaranteeing I would be kept alive.

I took his hand. His was shaking. "What do we do?" I asked him. How did the Gryffindors find us? Had they followed Snape and I to the valley? Has King Dumbledore lied? Who did I align myself with, the Slytherins or the Gryffindors? I took one look at Draco and knew it was the Slytherins. Draco opened his mouth but no words came out.

"Draco, a horse has been prepared for you. Close your mouth, you look unintelligent," his father answered for him. "If you want to go anywhere in this world, don't look stupid. Mount up and prepare to ride. Severus will escort you away. After the battle is done, I will bring the army to the meeting place Severus and I have discussed. I can't risk you being killed. God knows you are not at all skilled in battle."

Snape took Draco by the elbow and led him towards the door. "And Draco, don't do anything stupid. Act the part of a prince, as you have not been acting like one lately."

There were four horses, all saddled and ready. Blaise was standing in the pavilion. He took Draco's hand and helped him into his saddle. There were bags strapped to the horses that could only contain Draco's belongings. I swung up until my saddle without help. Snape perched on his horse scowling. Blaise gracefully mounted the remaining horse. Snape didn't wait any longer; he kicked his horse into motion, the others following. The frantic crowd parted before him, scrambling to get out of the way of his galloping horse.

My heart was racing even though my horse was the one running. Soldiers were beginning to march up the sides of the canyon, preparing to meet the foe. It was weird to call his own people the foe, but that was what they were here. What was to become of the Slytherin army? Would they make it out alive? Surely they would, the king was planning on meeting his son afterwards. I turned my head back towards the horses in front of me, trying to think about anything but the impending battle.

_~Draco~_

We had just crested the mountains on the other side of the valley when the sounds of the two armies clashing were heard. We stopped to rest to horses in an area where large boulders shielded us from the view of the enemy.

In the valley below us, the green and silver of the broken Slytherin army swirled with the red and gold of the Gryffindor army. They were pouring down into the valley from the opposite wall of mountains, overwhelming my father's army. The Gryffindor archers fired down at my people, killing them off like flies.

I was afraid. Fear was a common emotion in my life these days. In Slytherin I had never experienced true fear. Seeing my city burn had been the first time I had ever known fear and devastation. That was the first time I ever tasted the bitter tang of terror. The slave auction left me riddled with fright. When Sirius discovered my identity I had feared for my life. Now, seeing my people fight an army three times their size, I was petrified. I was afraid for them. Afraid of what would happen if they lost.

I turned away from the bloody battle. Harry was still on his horse, staring past me at the war. Those were his people too, I realized. The soldiers killing my people could be men he had grown up knowing. They were men he had grown up revering. The people he knew, loved, and respected were people I despised. They were the people responsible for the destruction of my country. I hated him for that.

"Well what are we waiting for?" I snapped at Snape. He was still perched on top of his dark horse. He stared down at my over his hooked nose. He was silent for a while, so long that I thought he wasn't going to answer me. "Where is the meeting spot?"

"There is no meeting spot," Snape replied evenly. He was staring down into the valley.

"What do you mean there is no meeting spot?" I demanded, turning my gaze back to the valley to look for my father. There was only red and gold. Any remaining Slytherins were being overtaken and put to the sword. In that heart stopping moment, I understood. My father hadn't planned on winning. He had sent me away and then led his army to their deaths.

I retched. They were gone. They were all dead. My people. My soldiers. My father. I began to cry, raking ugly sobs. Harry slid down from his horse and wrapped his arms around me. I kicked at him and wrenched free of his grip. "Don't _touch_ me," I hissed. "Those are _your_ people. Those are _your_ people that killed my father. My father is dead. This is your fault."

It was another hour before the Gryffindors vacated the valley and two hours before Snape deemed it safe to venture back down. I was numb. I had stopped crying. Harry had tried to speak to me but I had only pushed him away. I couldn't look at his stupid Gryffindor self right now, not after what his people did.

The valley was a sea of the dead, mutilated soldiers and maimed horses strewn everywhere. Rivers of blood ran from the corpses. There were red and gold uniforms mixed in, but the majority was silver and green. I retched at the sight of a man's entrails spilled all over the ground, but I didn't look away. These were my people and I owed it to them to know how they died. I took in every injury without a word, noting each gruesome death silently.

I found my father near the center of the valley. His shoulder was pierced by an arrow; his stomach was pierced by a sword. Blood ran freely down the left side of his face. His dead horse had collapsed across his legs.

When I dropped to my knees next to him, his eyes slowly flickered open. He stared at me for a minute, then raised his hand shakily to cup my cheek where he had hit me earlier today. "Draco," he rasped. "My son. Oh my son."

"I'm here Father," I whispered, tears streaming down my face.

"Don't cry." He coughed, his face contorting with pain. Blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth. "Oh Draco, where did I go wrong? I lost my wife and my kingdom."

"You haven't lost me, Father," I told him.

"I almost lost you. I thought you were dead. Then I almost chased you away." He rubbed my cheek with his unsteady hand. "I didn't mean any of those things. I love you, my son. You are not a disappointment."

I choked back a sob. "I love you father." He was slipping, I could feel it. It took him longer to reply this time.

"And after all I said to you. You will do well. You will be a better leader than I ever was." He coughed and blood came flying from his mouth.

"Please don't leave me, Father," I begged. "Please." My tears fell onto his face. I raised my hand to cover his.

He smiled softly. "Make me proud my son." I opened my mouth to reply as his hand went slack in mine. The life left his eyes and his soul left his body. I stared down at the corpse that was my father. We had never been close. As a king, he had been too busy to spend time with his son. I had revered him as a child and feared him as a teenager. My whole life I had loved him though. Despite all the harsh words and all the times we had disagreed, he had always been my father. I laid my head on his chest and cried.

We buried him as the sun went down. Blaise dug a grave and laid him inside. I covered him up with the dirt. I spent the rest of the night there, laying near his grave, alone with my thoughts. The stars began to come out, one and then another and then a thousand, covering the sky with a blanket of light.

I heard the footfalls of someone approaching but I didn't open my eyes. Someone laid down behind me and wrapped their arms around me. I tensed up and tried to pull away. I didn't want to be hugged. I wanted to be alone by my father.

Harry didn't relent. He softly kissed the back of my neck repeatedly until I gave in and relaxed against him. "How are you doing?" he asked softly, nuzzling his face into my hair.

"Fine," I replied evenly.

"Don't lie to me, Draco. What are you thinking?"

I let out a long breath. I couldn't stay mad at him, I realized that now. He hadn't done anything. He hadn't led the Gryffindors here. He would never do that. "I'm thinking about my father. We never really spent any time together. I hardly knew him. I wish we had been closer."

Harry rolled me onto my back, his arm around my shoulders. "Remus used to tell me that the stars were the souls of our lost loves ones. They shine down on us and watch over us. The stars that shine the brightest are the people that loved us most. Your father did love you, Draco. He didn't show it very often, but he loved you more than anything. You were his only son and he was extremely proud of you."

I stared up at the stars, the billions of bright lights that were my family and friends and people. Some stars were dull and some shined brighter than a candle. I didn't need to stay here next to my father's grave when I could look up and see him every night no matter where I was. I titled my head up to look Harry. He smiled down at me and kissed me softly. I opened my mouth, inviting him in to know me and everything I felt in that moment. As he ran his hand along my side to hold me against him, he felt my hurt and regret. And I gripped his hair he took away some of my anger and bitterness. As he touched my jaw he knew my pain. When he drew away and looked into my eyes he saw how much I loved him. He knew me completely in body and in mind. We didn't say anything. We didn't need to. We kissed for most of the night, Blaise and Snape's nearby fire keeping us warm. I fell asleep in Harry's arms, his heart beat a constant companion, and I knew everything would be alright.

**Author's Note-**Thanks you for being patient beautiful readers! I've been on vacation! I leave to go to camp in a week so I thought I'd treat you all to this update before I left! Did you like it? It was a hard chapter to write, I'm not sure why. I don't think it's my best writing ever, especially not the part that's in Harry's POV. Please review and tell me what you think!

I hope you all are having wonderful summers! Mine had been great, which is mainly why I've been so neglectful about updating. I've been hanging out with my boyfriend basically 24/7 and when I'm not there I'm working on my art. I also go excepted to the National Honor Society, which takes a ton of stress off my back!

I have a wonderful friend on this site named Emmagen. She has a friend who is trying to become a published author. If you would like to check out her website and read a few of her short stories or the synopses for some of her books that would be greatly appreciated. She's a great writer and she wants all the feedback she can get! Her website is kitchenator. weebly index. html (without all the spaces) Thank you all so much lovelies!


	31. Transformation

**Title-**Harry Potter and the Slytherin Slave

**Author-**CarsonLuke

**Rating-**M for swearing, dark themes, and my paranoia.

**Story Summary-** AU. Draco Malfoy was a Prince. Harry was a peasant. What will happen when Draco's country is invaded and he is capture and sold into slavery, only to be bought by none other than Harry himself. How long can he hide his true identity? And what about his growing feelings for his young master? Warning: Slash.

**Chapter Summary-**Draco makes a major decision regarding himself and the throne.

**Disclaimer-**I wish.

**Chapter Thirty-Transformation **

_~Harry~_

We left the valley early the next morning. We were unsure whether or not the Gryffindors would be back to collect spoils, and no one wanted to wait to find out. The sun was just beginning to peak up over the mountains, trying to warm the air around us. Winter was quickly approaching; the leaves on the trees were an array of colors waving gently in the morning's breeze. The brisk fall air nipped at the skin of my face, causing me to shiver. On his horse next to me, Draco's nose was flush with color, his pale skin as stark of a contrast as blood on fresh snow.

Draco was at the front of the pack, leading us. I kept my horse to his right, maintaining a close eye on him. I was still worried about him. He hadn't spoken about his father after last night; he hadn't even said goodbye to him when we packed up that morning. Riding a ways behind us was Blaise, his eyes also fixed on his master. I could tell Blaise was worried about the Slytherin, but he didn't say anything. Neither of us could work up the courage to. Snape trailed us at the back, his unreadable black eyes ever watching. Watching what, I was unsure.

We had only been walking a few hours before I realized where Draco was leading us. When he left the valley, I had expected him to take us east to Ravenclaw. There they would accept four refugees, as long as Draco was sure not to reveal himself. However, he had kept heading south. I thought perhaps he would take us west to Hufflepuff, though they were less likely to receive us. When he had kept a straight path, it dawned on me.

"Draco," I asked timidly. He glanced up at me. His eyes were still puffy from crying and his nose and cheeks were all rosy. I resisted the urge to kiss him. "Are we headed to Slytherin?"

He shook his head, his signature sneer creeping onto his face. It was good to see some kind of emotion from him, even if it was derision. "That would be stupid. We'd only find ruined cities and burned farmland." He looked down and refused to meet my eyes.

Blaise came trotted up beside us. He had a gash on his right temple that looked at least a day old and somehow I had just now noticed it. "Where are you taking us?" he asked, coming to the same conclusion as I had.

Draco jerked his reins back, bringing his horse to a stop. We slowed down and stared at him, unsure of what he was going to say. He didn't start until Snape was within earshot. "We're not going to Slytherin." He bit his lip and I could tell he had been rehearsing this moment in his head. Tenseness and nervousness were radiating off his body. "We're going to Hogsmeade. I'm going to see the king. I'm calling for a peace treaty. I'll give up the throne if I have to. Besides, there are only ruins to rule anyways. But there are some people left, and the only way I can protect them is by stopping this war. We can't fight and we can't win, so then the only other option is to surrender. I'll lay down the crown in front of the king if he agrees to keep his armies from raiding Slytherin."

I felt my stomach clench up. Could he actually be serious? Did he really mean to give up the throne? I could hardly imagine Draco as a commoner, and I had seen him playing the part of a slave. Would the king accept his peace offering, or would Draco be hurt? I didn't think Dumbledore would harm Draco, but I couldn't be sure.

Snape opened his mouth to speak but the blonde cut him off. "I'm not hearing any arguments. I've made up my mind. I don't want the damn throne anyways. It took up all of my father's time and nearly drove him mad in the end. I'm half the man he was. I'm not the stuff of legends. I wouldn't do well as a ruler." He tugged his reins and led his horse off at a quick trot. I sighed aloud and went to catch up with him.

"I don't think you're stupid," I called over the wind when I was close. His fine hair was whipping about, an army swarm around his pointed face. I could only imagine the tangled mess it would be when the wind died down.

He wouldn't look at me, but I saw I tear slide slowly down his cheek. He didn't seem to notice. "I'm a failure, Harry. That's all I've ever be. My father was right. I can't rule Slytherin. It seems even god is against me ruling my country. I have no options but to hand over the throne."

"I know you don't, love. I don't think you're a failure either." I wanted him to understand how I felt, to know how much I supported him. I wanted to open up my chest and shove all my love at him. "I think you're incredibly brave. You're making a huge sacrifice to keep your people safe. I think you're a hero."

Draco looked at me and I could tell I was getting through to him. His eyes lightened, turning from the color of storm clouds to the color of stone. He smiled softly, transforming his face. No longer was he the small, afraid boy. He appeared happier, more intense. More like a king.

"Thank you, Harry," Draco murmured. "I've needed you a lot lately. If you hadn't been there, they would have buried me in the valley as well. After my father…I was so upset and everything just seemed so dark." He shook his head and looked away, ending the moment. He stared off into the distance, his face a stoic mask. "I'm afraid." Beyond him, the sun was climbing higher in the sky, shining its light upon the countryside. Hogsmeade laid a few days' journey away. Somewhere past the city was Sirius and Remus' house. I wondered how they were doing. Had something happened to Sirius after Draco had disappeared out from under the castle guard's noses? Had Remus found him, taken him home? Were they worrying about what had become of me? Or had they forgetting, fallen back into an everyday routine?

I nodded. In truth, I was frightened too. This could easily end very badly.

_~Draco~_

The return to Hogsmeade took longer than the trip away from it, but to me it went by in a heartbeat. It seemed like I had just woken up in the valley, just left my father's grave behind, and suddenly the great city was looming below me, a thousand buildings littering the expanse like stones in a riverbed. I tried my best to act brave, if not for the others then for myself. I had to make this work. I knew I was already disappointing my father by giving up his country, so I had to get the best deal possible. I had to make myself look strong, fearless, like I didn't actually need this deal. Like my back wasn't pressed against a wall.

I dug my father's crown out of my pack and set it on top of my wind tousled hair. If I was going to play the part of the part a king, I had to look like one.

We stopped and I donned Snape's cloak, making sure to keep my face covered. I would ride in the center, with Snape leading and Blaise and Harry to either side. Snape put his hand on my shoulder, the weight of it all threatening to pull me down. "Remember your courtesies. You're in their court so you play by their rules. I spent a long time in Hogsmeade, gathering information for your father. I know how Dumbledore runs things. He'll be pleasant to you, but he won't take any of your Slytherin snark. However, you keep arguing until you get the best deal you're going to get." Snape gave me one last hard look before letting go and mounting his horse again.

The first few steps into the city were the hardest thing I had ever done, worse than stepping out onto the stage of the slave market. My heart was beating madly in my chest. I rode in the center of the group, Snape in front and Harry and Blaise to either side. The streets were packed, thousands of bodies brushing past each other, spots of flesh in a sea of dirt and sweat. No one paid us any mind.

I felt a weight lift off my chest and my queasy stomach calmed, if only slightly. I had made it into the city and no one had stopped me, no one had dragged me off my horse to my death.

The palace was in the city center, surrounded by guards and gates. I knew this would be the hard part. Snape stopped at the gates and spoke lowly to one of the guards. The guard shook his head multiple times then said, "Dismount and I'll let you in. No promises on seeing the King though. He doesn't have time to hear every villager's complaints about bad crop yields."

I wanted to blurt it out, I wanted to tell him my name and demand entrance, but I held my tongue. I knew that wouldn't work with the common gate guard and it would probably only get me killed. I slid off my horse and handed the reins to a young stable boy, making sure to keep my head down as another guard led us though the castle doors. It was grand, decorated in red and gold trimmings, just as I remembered from my last visit with Sirius. For Harry's sake I hoped he was okay, even if he tried to have me executed.

Another guard approached us. I snuck a quick glance at him. By the sigil on his armor, I could tell he was higher up than the one who had brought us inside. This was the man who could get us into see the king.

"We need to see his majesty, King Dumbledore, with the most urgent of matters," Snape told him as the common guard left.

This new guard grunted. "Of course you do. They all do. Complaints of bad crops, the army eating their food and raping their daughters, it's always the same. Surprise me. What's so urgent?"

A cold sweat coated my hand and I rubbed them on the oversized cloak. This was it. My hands shook as I raised them up and drew back the hood of my cloak. I looked the guard in the eyes, trying to look strong. "I am Draco Malfoy, King of the Slytherin Empire, and I demand to meet with your King."

The guard's jaw went slack before he quickly threw himself into action, calling for another guard. Three more came and, upon hearing what was happening, quickly formed a box around my group. They shuffled us down the hall, trying to keep us out of the sight of any passersby.

I reached down and squeezed Harry's hand. He squeezed back, his hand shaking.

The only thing I could hear was the sound of my heart beating in my ears, louder than an anvil of iron. I could see the guard's lips moving, giving orders, but I had no idea what he was saying. It was an eternity before the huge oak doors carved with two ornate lions appeared before us. The guards opened the doors but before we could enter, they stopped us. "He enters alone."

Harry tried to protest but I stepped forward. A strange calm washed over me and suddenly I knew I could do this. I felt like my father was there with me, teaching me. I felt like a ruler. I felt bold. I took two steps, three until I was passed the barrier of the doors. I looked over my shoulder at Harry. His green eyes were wide with terror behind his spectacles. I nodded at him and somehow I had transformed into the brave one.

I broke our stare, straightened my shoulders, and took a mental deep breath. I was ready. I could do this. My people were counting on me.

The doors dully banged shut behind me.

**Author's Note-** Dearies, it has been too long.

It really shouldn't have taken me so long to update. I had an edition of this chapter written for like two months, but it just wasn't working for me. Then last night I deleted it all and rewrote it. I still don't love it, but it's so much better than it was.

I'm going to give you the usual excuses. School has been taking up a lot of my time. Classes are hard this year and I've got a lot of homework. I have had free time though. Because I'm a terrible updater and a horrible person, I watched Supernatural instead of writing. I'll try to get better, I promise. Except it probably won't happen.

We're reaching the climax. I can hardly believe it. Yesterday I realized I've been writing this story for shortly over two years. Thank you so much to all of you that have stuck with me through it all. I love you all so much. Please review and tell me how you thought the chapter was! Thank you!


	32. Slytherin Is Dead

**Title-**Harry Potter and the Slytherin Slave

**Author-**CarsonLuke

**Rating-**M for swearing, dark themes, and my paranoia.

**Chapter Summary-**Draco negotiates peace with Dumbledore.

**Disclaimer-**The magnificent Draco and the others all belong to JK. .

**Chapter Thirty-One-Slytherin Is Dead **

_~Harry~_

I was wearing holes into the ground, anxiousness rolling off me in waves. Snape and Blaise were standing to the side, two guards with gleaming swords keeping watch over us. Despite the fact they could easily kill us, it wasn't them my mind was focused on. All I could think about was Draco and how I should be in there defending him. He was alone, making his claim to his number one enemy. My stomach flipped, the vile taste of guilt in my mouth. I needed to be in there to support Draco, yet I out here. I was letting him face this alone.

I swallowed thickly. I knew there was nothing I could do, but that didn't keep me from worrying. My chest ached from it. I paused outside the door, trying to see if I could hear anything from within. There was only silence and the sound of my nervous heart trying to break out of my chest.

"How long has he been in there?" I asked. It seemed like ages. What if something happened? What if the negotiations went south and my Slytherin was killed?

"A few minutes," Snape answered. "Stop pacing, you foolish prat. Being in that room would do him no good. You would just hinder him. He's a diplomat. He's better off alone."

My heart sank because I knew he was right, yet I wanted so badly to know what was going on behind those thick oak doors. I resigned myself to keep pacing fretfully.

_~Draco~_

The sound of the doors closing behind me was the sound of finality. There was no turning back now, no running back to Slytherin or staying in hiding for the rest of my life. I had to face this like a man.

The ornate throne room seemed to stretch on for miles. Pillars held up the roof, painted to show a scene of a huge lion, serpent, badger, and eagle. The four animals seemed to be existing harmoniously, the painting obviously done before the beginning of the war.

The thin worn out shoes I had acquired in my father's camp clacked dully on the hard floor. That and my heart beating in my ears were the only sounds in the room. At the end of the hall sat the king on a golden throne, raised above everyone. Guards stood off to the sides, their hands on the hilts of their swords.

I stopped ten feet in front of the throne and, hands steady, sank to a knee before the king, bowing my head in respect. I gritted my teeth together then stood, raising my eyes to meet Dumbledore's.

He was a wizened old man, half moon spectacles perched on a crooked nose. His robes were embroidered along the sleeves, yet they looked old, unlike something my own father would wear. His long gray hair and beard looked slightly scraggly. His face, however, looked down at me kindly. He was exactly as he had been when Sirius Black had dragged me before him. "Mr. Malfoy," he said, his voice gentle. "I thought you would come."

I opened my mouth to speak, feeling strangely brave. I knew what needed to be done. "Your Majesty, I've come to talk of peace. This war has gone on for too long. It's time to lay down arms. My father was killed in the valley's battle, and therefore the throne has fallen to me." I stared the old king in the eyes, not daring to look away. "I've come to lay to surrender it to you."

Dumbledore studied me intently. I could tell he was trying to determine how genuine my offer was. "In surrendering your claim to the Malfoy throne, you would in turn be surrendering Slytherin to my control and ending the war, am I correct?"

I nodded sharply. "That is correct. I would, of course, have terms. My people would not be harmed. You would treat every Slytherin man, woman, and child as if they were a Gryffindor. My companions and myself would not be harmed either. You would have to agree to let me go on my way and grant me diplomatic immunity."

He considered this. "Of course I would not harm your people. If I were to grant you this immunity, per se, how would I know that you wouldn't raise an army to fight me again?"

I let out a harsh laugh. Maybe it wasn't the best thing to do in the situation, but it served its purpose. "Because that worked so well for us last time. With all due respect, Your Highness, I saw my city and my people burned. I saw the entirety of the Slytherin army slaughtered. I held my father's hand as he died. I have nothing left. Who would I rally? Those who are left in Slytherin would not be nearly enough to begin a rebellion. We would be laughed at and scorned. I would be foolish to think my back wasn't pressed against the wall. So I'm doing this in a way that is best for both of us. My people aren't harmed and your people see you as merciful. This war has been going on for ten years. They'll be glad to hear that you peacefully ended it. Even if it means I give up my last shred of dignity."

Dumbledore regarded me thoughtfully before giving a small smile. "If things had been different, I think we would have been good allies, Mr. Malfoy. You're a very intelligent young man and you would have made a good ruler. You remind me of your mother. She always thought of her people's best interest. If people like her were listened to more, maybe this war could have been avoided. Alas, there's always the war generals, and they aren't pleased with anything less than a full scale war."

I stared at the old man. He had called me a good ruler and compared me to my mother. It was almost too much to take in. The way his face shifted told me he was coming to a conclusion. This was it. Either I left a commoner or I died in this room.

Dumbledore stood and strode forward until he was directly in front of me. He was tall, and I had to crane my neck to look him in the eyes. He smiled gently at me. "Mr. Malfoy, I accept your terms. In stepping down from the throne of the Slytherin Empire, you are giving your people over to my ruling. I will treat them as well as I treat my own. This agreement will bring an end to our war. You will be granted diplomatic immunity on the condition that you are never to rally against Gryffindor. Do you consent?" He held his hand out to me.

I stared at his gnarled old fingers, raising my hand. This was the end of my life, the beginning of a new one where I was a commoner and Slytherin didn't exist. I grasped Dumbledore's hand firmly, shaking it in the confident way my father had taught me when I was a boy. When he released me hand, I knelt before him again, taking my slim silver crown off my head and placing it at his feet. "I surrender my kingdom to you and lay down my title as King of Slytherin."

The wizened king nodded and held out his hand to help me up. I didn't take it, preferring to rise on my own. Even if I had given up my kingdom and my legacy, I could still look strong and independent.

"I'm glad we could settle this peacefully, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said as he walked with me towards the ornate oak doors. "In all honesty, I hated this war. I've always hated it. It was a foolish war to start, but I wasn't able to get out of it. There's always those who won't stop pushing for it, and I had to satisfy my people."

I nodded, not really listening to him. Now that this was over, a huge weight had lifted off my shoulders. It had worked. A ten year war was suddenly over, and my people would no longer be persecuted. It hardly seemed possible. It seemed far too easy.

"I know we agreed that you would walk free, but for now you're a guest in my palace, Mr. Malfoy. You'll be welcome to walk the castle, though I will provide you with an escort as I wouldn't want you to be harmed in any way. You'll be given the best room to recuperate from your journey. I'll have some formal documents drawn up for you to sign. You'll have to give a speech to the people so they can here the announcement from your own lips, but I can tell you could use some rest before then." The kindly old man paused in front of the doors, taking my hand in his knobby fingers again. "Draco, don't think of this as a dishonor. You've done a very honorable thing for your country, for everyone. You are much braver than your father, or even I, ever was."

_~Harry~_

My heart almost jumped out of my chest when the doors opened. My brain had been providing me with horrible images of Draco's lifeless, mangled body, but there he was, in one piece, standing before me. He had an aloof expression on his pointy face. The long black robes didn't fit his body well, his hair was slightly disheveled, and the crown was gone. Yet, to my utterly distressed mind, he looked like an angel.

I tried to step forward and wrap my arms around him, but he brushed me off. Snape gave me a disapproving glare.

"The head of my guard, Sir Kingsley Shacklebolt, will take you show you to your rooms," King Dumbledore said. "Severus, a word, if you would."

A tall, muscular man with dark skin in a red and gold knight's outfit led us away from Snape, down the cold stone hallway. He strode a few steps ahead of us, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. His bald head coupled with his silence made him seem even more formidable.

I looked over at Draco but he wouldn't meet my eye. He was stared straight ahead, his jaw clenched. I was slightly hurt that he wouldn't acknowledge me.

Kingsley Shacklebolt led us up a flight of stairs and down another cold hallway before stopping in front of a tall door. He gestured towards Blaise, who was trailing behind us. "A room for you," he declared in a deep voice. "Yours is here," he told me, pointing to the door across the hall. He took Draco to the end of the hallway, opening the door for him. Draco walked inside and I followed, giving the knight a nod. He closed the door behind me.

I grabbed Draco by the wrist, whirling him around immediately. My eyes asked the question my mouth couldn't.

A single tear rolled over Draco's pale cheek. "Slytherin is dead," he declared.

_~Draco~_

Harry pressed his lips against mine gently, his arms wrapping around me and holding me tight. Now that we were alone, I could give up the charade of a strong leader, letting him support me and embrace me. I opened my mouth underneath his and fell into the kiss, tongues swirling together.

Harry backed me up until my thighs bumped into the mahogany baseboard of a bed bigger than any I had seen since my flight from the Slytherin castle. A fire was burning in the corner of the gigantic room, and that combined the heat pooling in my stomach was making my skin damp. I moaned when Harry nipped lightly at the skin below my ear, my cock leaping to attention. He took my hand and pressed it against the hardness of his own crotch. I palmed his erection through his travel worn pants. Harry growled in my ear, tugging my shirt up and over my head in one fluid motion. He began trailing kisses down my chest, kneeling in front of me. My breath hitched as he slowly undid my pants, letting them pool at my feet. My cock ached, begging for attention. I whined low in the back of my throat as he placed gently kisses along my stomach. I grasped his messy ebony hair, yanking hard to show him what I wanted.

"Harry," I hissed as he continued to ignore me. "Harry, _please_."

He smirked; his eyes twinkled behind his stupid, ugly glasses. He took me into his mouth slowly, causing me to let out a guttural groan. I bucked my hips forward, forcing my cock farther down his throat. He gagged and I relented a little. "Sorry," I whispered, my hand stroking his cheek.

He soon picked up a pace, his tongue swirling around my length and lapping at it. I was moaning, weak in the knees. My head was thrown back, my mouth open. I cried out when he came off my cock with a pop, tilting my head down questioningly. He stood up, kissing me lightly. He was still fully clothed, his erection straining against his pants, while I was naked and coming undone form his just his mouth. I gripped him by the waist band of his pants, spinning around so I had him pinned against the baseboard.

I leered at him, deftly undoing his pants and tugging them down. I yanked his shirt over his head, making his hair even wilder. I placed my hands on his chest, shoving him. He tumbled backwards onto the bed. I crawled up with him, kneeling over him, my hands on each side of his head. I rested my forehead against his.

"I love you," he whispered, his hands sliding down my back to cup the curve of my ass.

I stared down at Harry, his wild, utterly Gryffindor hair, his emerald green eyes, his stupid spectacles, and felt the same way. It didn't matter that I wasn't a prince anymore, not really. Harry made me feel like one. Harry took care of me. He was everything I wanted.

"I love you too," I breathed, kissing the tip of his nose.

He spit on his fingers and I tried to relax as he slipped a finger inside of me. I hissed in pain, but shook my head when he gave me a questioning look. "Keep going, you bloody Gryffindor," I spat. He crooked his finger inside of me and my muscles began to relax. He slipped a second finger, then a third inside me, stretching me. I was rocking back on his fingers, my own hand snaking down to stroke my agonizingly hard cock.

"Stop," I commanded. "That's enough. I need you now."

He pulled his fingers out of me. He was laying on his back, his legs bent up. I lowering myself onto his cock slowly, gritting my teeth as I straddled him. Harry groaned, his hips bucking slightly. I placed a hand on his chest to steady myself. Slowly, I began moving, pulling almost completely off of him before lowering myself down again. Harry gripped my hips, thrusting into me, setting a hard and fast pace, the muscles in his abdomen clenching and unclenching.

Harry's mouth was open, a mix of moans and incoherent curse words spilling out. My chest was heaving from the strain, my hands gripping the sheets on either side of Harry. His nails were digging into my hips, scratching down my back as he fucked me. Skin slid across slick skin, sweat coating both of our bodies.

"God, Draco, oh fuck," he groaned as I took him deeper inside of me. I slid my hand down to try and touch myself again, but he smacked my hand away. "No," he muttered. "Just me." He kept fucking me, lifting me almost off of him before slamming into me again.

My mind was blank of everything but Harry. The only coherent thoughts I could form were that I loved him and that I needed more. Maybe I was saying my thoughts out loud, because he picked up the pace, hitting just the right spot inside me repeatedly. The heat was pooling deep in my core. I could feel myself getting close. I tried to warn him. "Harry, I'm," was all I could get out before I was coming, spilling my seed over his chest. I clamped down on Harry's cock and that was all it took. He came deep inside me, shouting my name. I collapsed forward on top of him, my breathing heavy. We laid there for a long time, his fingers trailing across the smooth skin of my back lazily.

Eventually Harry pulled out of me, helping me under the covers. I rolled over onto my side, curling my legs up, my thighs a sticky mess. Harry settled down behind me, an arm thrown across my chest. He placed a chaste kiss on my lips.

"I love you," he said.

All I could manage was a nod, the fatigue penetrating deep into my bones. I snuggled back against his chest, succumbing and letting sleep wash over me.

**Author's Note-**Look how good I was about updating! And a long chapter too! With smut!

I hope the smut was well written. I like this chapter. Review and let me know what you think my dears.

I hope to get the next few chapters written soon so I can update quickly. We're nearing the end and that makes me so sad because I've had such a great time writing this and it's been a part of my life for over two years. But the day has to come sometime. It's just so sad that it's coming pretty soon.


	33. Heartbeats

**Title-**Harry Potter and the Slytherin Slave

**Author-**CarsonLuke

**Rating-**M for swearing, dark themes, and my paranoia.

**Chapter Summary-**Draco gives a speech and things don't go exactly as planned.

**Disclaimer-**The magnificent Draco and the others all belong to JK. .

**Chapter Thirty-Two-Heartbeats**

_~Harry~_

I woke up in the most comfortable bed of my life, heat radiating off of the form next to me. The fire in the corner of the room had long since gone out. I smiled sleepily, pressing kisses to the back of his neck and his shoulder blades. My Slytherin was still sound asleep, his mouth slightly open. He looked so peaceful, his blonde hair strewn across the pillows, his flushed cheeks a stark contrast against his pale skin.

I laid in bed with him until he woke up. At one point, a servant came in to draw up a bath. We awkwardly avoided eye contact, neither one of us knowing what to do.

The sun had risen high in the sky when Draco woke up, languidly stretching his arms and arching his back. I stared at his body, transfixed. His eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks and he smiled up at me. "How long have I been sleeping?" he asked, propping himself up on his elbows. His voice was rough from sex and slumber.

I grazed my fingers over his chest distractedly. The skin of his neck and chest were bruised from my teeth. "I've been up for a few hours. It's about noon."

Draco's eyebrows shot up. "Has anyone come to the door? I'm supposed to sign documents, and give a speech. There are things I have to do still; why didn't you wake me up?" he demanded, throwing the covers back.

I caught him by the wrist as he tried to get up. I gently pulled him back to the bed, settling him on my lap. We were both a mess, yet I couldn't get over how beautiful he looked. Jealously and possessiveness suddenly and unexpectedly clawed its way up my chest, its talons digging deep. I wanted to keep him here with me forever. I didn't want to share him with anyone; I didn't want to lose him to diplomatic duties. All I wanted was the relive last night over and over again. I wanted to feel Draco's body sliding against me again, feel him surrounding me. At that thought, my cock twitched slightly. Draco stood up, but I kept my grip on his boney wrist. "No one's come to the door, only a servant to prepare a bath for you half an hour ago. You looked so peaceful and you needed the sleep badly. The papers can wait a few hours." I tucked a strand of his soft hair behind his ear. He frowned at me, but he didn't argue. "How did your talk with Dumbledore go?" I asked tentatively.

He shrugged dismissively. I could tell he was holding back. He didn't want to talk about it, I understood that. He had just given up the one thing he had been raised to clutch desperately onto. "I no longer have any claim to the Slytherin Empire, which also no longer exists. Dumbledore agreed to treat my people well. I'll be politically protected for the rest of my life as long as I never try to stir up a rebellion. After I sign the formal documents and give a public speech declaring my surrender, we can leave freely." He looked at me, his gray eyes wide and questioning. "Do you think I did the right thing?"

I stood up to face him, taking a hold of both of his hands. I leaned in a kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Of course I do. I think you were incredibly brave. You made the best sacrifice to protect your people and end the war. Let's stop moping and go get cleaned up."

After bathing, I opened the door for Draco and followed him out of the room. Kingsley Shacklebolt was still guarding the door and I had the uncomfortable feeling that he had heard our love making the previous night. He gave us a sharp nod before starting down the hall. "His Majesty invites you both to a luncheon."

I fought down the jealous monster that still had its claws wrapped around my insides. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't keep Draco in our room and fuck him forever. He had duties to perform, duties that were important to him and Gryffindor.

We followed the foreboding guard down the halls and into a room decorated copiously with tapestries that told the history of Gryffindor. A long table took up most of the room, set with a white tablecloth and covered in more food than I had ever seen. Seated at the head of the table was King Dumbledore in a pair of blue robes. He smiled upon seeing us. "I'm glad you both could make it. I trust you slept well?"

I blushed, feeling that he also knew about last night's activities. Draco nodded, his face not revealing any emotion. It wasn't a skill I had managed to master. "Yes, the night was very recuperating. You're hospitality is most gracious, Your Majesty."

We took the offered seats, Draco on the king's left and I at Draco's side. On Dumbledore's right was an older man, covered in battle scars. He had the appearance of an aged lion. Farther down the table was Mad Eye Moody, Snape across from him, and Blaise sitting uncomfortably to his side. Many official looking people I couldn't name were seating around the table as well.

Dumbledore made the introductions, announcing the old lion as Rufus Scrimgeour, Gryffindor's head military advisor. Draco had offered his hand, but Scrimgeour only sniffed and refused to shake it. Dumbledore cleared his throat to break the tension.

The luncheon was awkward. Dumbledore made small talk with Draco as I listened, providing the small nod when I felt it was necessary. Scrimgeour glared across the table at Draco. The old man seemed to harbor an enmity towards the Slytherin that extended past the fact that he was a Malfoy. He turned up his nose at anything Draco would say, his sneer rivaling that of the Slytherin's. I found myself watching the military advisor more than the king himself. There was just something about the man and the hostility he had towards Draco that made the hairs on the back of my neck rise. I popped another bite of the roast into my mouth, chewing thoughtfully.

"Have you been preparing a speech, Mr. Malfoy?" Dumbledore asked.

Draco turned his head and a hickey just under his ear was made visible. "I put all my thoughts towards it last night, Your Majesty," he stated. I choked on the roast and coughed awkwardly as all eyes turned towards me.

"And your room was to your satisfaction?" Dumbledore questioned. He was staring at Draco pertly, and I couldn't tell if he understood the brazen innuendos or not.

I took another bite of savory roast-it really was the best meal I'd ever had-as Draco nodded. I managed to swallow before he replied, "Indeed it was. The bed was much more comfortable than anything I've slept on for the past few months. I made good use of it."

I glared at him and kicked him under the table. He didn't turn to look at me.

When the luncheon was over and Dumbledore had dismissed us, I stood up and followed Draco and out of the dining hall. "What the hell were you doing saying all that stuff?" I hissed once we were out of earshot.

He smirked and tucked a strand of his fine hair behind his ear. He was practically radiating wickedness. "What, can't handle a little joke, Potty?" he mocked. "The old man didn't have a clue. No need to get your panties in a twist."

I frowned at him as we rounded the corner, then stumbled to a halt as Scrimgeour strode straight towards us. He narrowed his eyes when he saw Draco. "Don't think you'll be getting any honor form your actions, boy. Honor is going down in battle. Everyone knows you're nothing but a cowardly little whore."

The demon in my chest roared back to life in my chest, protectiveness and fury taking over my thoughts. If I had listened to the monster, I would have him right there. I took a step towards Scrimgeour, opening my mouth to respond, but Draco grabbed my wrist and tugged me away. I glared at the old lion as we passed.

"What the hell is his problem?" I demanded, turning to Draco. My anger still hadn't settled; my hands were shaking. I had always had this temper, but it normally remained docile, buried away inside of me. The last time it had really flared up, I had been seven or eight. Remus had made me mad for some reason that I couldn't even remember anymore. I had screamed at him, told him that I hated him, that my life would have been better if he had been killed with my parents. Sirius had taken me outside and backhanded me across the face so hard that I had felt it for a week. When I'd fallen to my knees, he knelt down beside me, gripped me by the collar of my shirt and gotten within inches of my face. "Don't you dare say anything like that again because you have it fucking well," he had said. "If you _ever_ disrespect your Remus or your parents again, I will kick you out of my house." He had taken me inside, told me to stop crying, then cleaned up my face. I hadn't said anything of the sorts to Remus after that, and the anger had remained suppressed.

Draco stared past me at Scrimgeour's retreating form. "He's the military advisor, Harry. This whole war was his doing, his plan. He wanted to eradicate every last Slytherin and win the war with one great blood bath. I stole that from him. Instead, I ended things peacefully. He doesn't get his glory. He goes down on the books as a man who caused lots of Gryffindor soldiers to die when things could have been peacefully resolved."

I considered that as Scrimgeour vanished down another hallway. The old lion seemed to swell with pride at the dinner table, yet I could see now that he was struggling to cling onto the last of his vanity. If he hadn't spoken to Draco in such a nasty manor, perhaps I would have felt bad for the old man.

I couldn't muster up more than a little pity as I followed Draco back to his room.

_~Draco~_

Harry tried to trail me into my bedroom, but I only shook my head and sent him away with a chaste kiss. "I need to work on my speech and you're nothing but distracting." Harry's face fell, and for a split second I wanted to relent and drag him back to the bed, but I held my ground. He was still angry, but it wasn't rolling off him in waves like it had been. "Go back to your room and rest, Harry. You need it," I told him. Harry gave in and slumped back to his room looking unwanted, yet I knew he would understand. I couldn't fool around here, not for any longer.

I sat down at the desk by the fire in the corner of the room. It was burning again, the warmth creeping into my body. Whoever had come in to relight the fire had also cleaned up the mess Harry and I had made of the bed.

In one of the desk drawers was a stack of parchment. I took a piece and, dipping a feather into the pot of ink, I began clawing my brain for words. Ink dripped off the tip of the feather slowly, splattering on the fresh paper. I lowered the pen and began to write.

It took hours, and the parchment was a mess of words scratched out and things added, but I was finally done. I set down the feather softly and reread my speech. It was humiliating work, admitting the defeat of my country again. My stomach flipped uneasily. Would my father be proud of me or would he hate me for forsaking my homeland?

I opened the door to my room and motioned for Sir Shacklebolt. "Fetch my servant Zabini," I told him. The dark skinned knight nodded solemnly and turned on his heel, striding down the hallway.

I closed the door, rehearsing my speech in my head. As I child I had been trained to hold my head high and not to be nervous when speaking, but worry still clenched my heart in an iron fist. I wasn't afraid of being in front of the crowd; I was afraid of the words I had to say. I had to announce myself as weak, as unable to manage my country. I had to admit I was less than king material.

Behind me the door opened. "Draw me up a bath, Blaise, and help me find some clothes to give this fucking speech in," I drawled without turning around.

A hand grabbed me roughly, and suddenly I was tumbling face first into the hard stone wall. I cried out as I fell, unable to comprehend what was happening. Something warm was sliding down my forehead. I was spun around forcefully, and abruptly strong hands were on my neck, tightening. I gasped, fingers clawing at the hands. My attacker shook me violently, my head smacking against stone. Hot pain flared up and I was seeing stars. My lungs were beginning to burn. I tried to scream, to call out, to find _someone_ to help me, but all I could manage was a feeble whimper. I raised my hands to claw at my attackers face, catching the man's scarred and wrinkled face. He hissed and tightened his grip. I grabbed a hold of his hair, trying to force him away from me.

My vision was starting to become blurry and I could barely hold my hand up. Help me, I thought. Please, somebody help me. _Harry._

Then the hands were gone. My knees gave out and I collapsed against the wall, sliding to the ground as I sucked in air frantically. All I could hear was my heart beating rapidly. My head was spinning, but I could see Kingsley Shacklebolt dragging Scrimgeour out the door.

"Hold still, Master Draco." I turned my head groggily to see Blaise kneeling next to me. I raised my hand to wipe away something hot that was sliding down my face. My hand came away stained red. "Don't touch it," Blaise murmured, gently taking my hand.

"Where's Harry?" I croaked. I looked around the room slowly, but I didn't see the ebony haired boy anywhere. "I want Harry." I could barely form a coherent thought, but I _knew_ that I needed my Harry.

"I'll get him in a moment, Master Draco," Blaise said, brushing my hair out of my face. "I just want you to relax, okay? I'll get you cleaned up."

I nodded and allowed Blaise to gently scoop me up in his arms. I held on to his shirt as he carried me across the room and laid me on the bed. I weakly fought him off and sat up. "I'm fine," I wheezed, my throat raw. "Stop touching me, I want Harry."

Blaise finally relented. "Fine, just stay there and don't hurt yourself." He gave me one last worried look and left the room. I rubbed my throat lightly. My head was almost unbearable, but now that I had air again, I was beginning to feel a bit better. Blaise returned and when Harry laid eyes on me, he rushed over. His worry was evident on his face as he bent over the bed, his head cradling my chin gently.

"Are you okay? Someone needs to look at you. God, you're bleeding," he whispered. He touched my check softly. I could see the guilt in his eyes, the knowledge that he hadn't been there to help me.

"I'm fine," I mumbled. "It was fucking Scrimgeour. He attacked me." Harry's eyes darkened and he straightened up. I caught his hand. "Don't. Stay with me."

Harry looked unhappy, but he did as I asked. Blaise brought over a bowl of water and tenderly dabbed at my wounds, wiping the blood from my face. I closed my eyes, Harry's hand still in mine, and let myself be tended to. I knew I was pathetic, but I couldn't bring myself to care.

_~Harry~_

We tried to convince him otherwise, but Draco insisted on giving his speech only a day after his run-in with Scrimgeour. I stood in the doorway to Draco's room, watching as Blaise tried to cover up the gash on Draco's head and the bruises on his neck. One of the king's advisors was talking to the Slytherin softly. Draco didn't say anything, just nodded and signed the papers the man was holding in front of him. The man offered a few more words, then stood to leave. I moved aside as he brushed out the door.

Draco hadn't said anything lately. Besides demanding that he give his speech so he could leave, he had been utterly silent. I wasn't sure if it was because of the speech or the attack. A little of both, I assumed.

Nothing had happened to Scrimgeour. Dumbledore had shouted at him, but no actual punishment had been decreed. All that had happened was Draco received more guards and a formal apology from the king.

I couldn't shake the feeling that he was upset with me. He hadn't said anything about the fact that I hadn't been there to help him, but the weight of his eyes was enough. Whenever I caught him staring at me, he would quickly look away. He had yet to make eye contact with me.

Blaise stood up and wiped his hands on a towel. Draco's neck showed no signs of trauma, but the wound on his forehead would not be covered. The ex-prince slowly got to his feet. He was wearing black pants and a pale gray shirt that was the same shade as his eyes. Blaise helped him adjust a deep forest green cloak around his shoulders. He looked like royalty, yet I knew he was lower and more disgraced than any Gryffindor.

"Can you leave us for a moment, Blaise?" I asked. The servant nodded and walked silently from the room. I closed the door after him. Draco didn't turn to look at me as I came up behind him. I slipped my arm around his waist, kissing the crown of his head lightly. "Are you mad at me?" I asked. When he didn't reply, I continued. "I'm sorry, Draco. I should have been there. If I could change things, I would. I wish I could, but I can't. Please don't be mad at me."

Draco let out a low breath. "I know you can't change anything, Potter." My stomach clenched at the use of my surname. "I'm not mad at you. I'm worried about what will happen after we leave here. Obviously it's not safe for me to remain in Hogsmeade for much longer, but where will it be safe? Nowhere in Gryffindor, that's certain. I'll have to return to Slytherin and keep myself out of the public's eye. It's just…" He broke off and raised a hand to his face. I turned to face him. Tears were spilling over his cheeks slowly. "I have to leave Gryffindor, but this is your home. I can't ask you to leave your family. I can't ask you to come with me." He raised his stone gray eyes to mine. Tears rolled down his face.

I leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips. "I want to be with you. We can figure something out. Let's not worry about that right now. You need to focus on your speech." I brushed the tears off his face with my thumb. "Be strong, darling, and they'll believe anything you say."

Draco nodded and smiled shakily. "I suppose I can't hide in here forever. Sometime I have to go out and face the world."

-oOo-

They came from all over to hear the scorned prince speak.

Draco stood on the front steps of the castle, hundreds of thousands of people spread out below him, a dense throng of men, women, and children in red and gold. The rich mingled with the dirt poor, all anxiously wanting to see the Slytherin admit defeat and prostrate himself at Dumbledore's feet.

I could see the side of Draco's face from where I stood. His face didn't display any emotion, but his hands were shaking as he smoothed the front of his shirt. Kingsley stood a few steps behind him, his hand resting gently on the hilt of his sword. The dark skinned guard was taking his job of protecting the blonde very seriously.

Scrimgeour stood near the doorway of the castle, a small smirk on his face. White hot fury momentarily took control.

"Quite the crowd, wouldn't you say, my boy?"

I snapped my attention to Dumbledore. The old man was standing next to me, surveying the crowd. His spectacles were sliding down his crooked nose. "Lots of people want to hear his speech, I suppose." I cleared my throat and shifted my weight. "Your majesty, if you don't mind me asking…when my godfather, Sirius, delivered Draco…was he allowed to leave?" The thought had been at the back of my mind for quite some time. I felt awful for not asking it sooner; I had always been so involved with Draco that I hadn't even spared a moment for my family.

Dumbledore smiled kindly. "Of course, Harry. I'm not heartless. I let Draco go; I wasn't going to punish Mr. Black for that. I provided him with an escort out of the city and let him return to his home. I haven't seen him since."

I nodded graciously, but before I could respond, Draco had delved into his speech. He was standing in front of the crowd as himself. He wasn't hiding behind a podium. He was facing them alone and unshielded. My heart was beating loudly in my chest.

"Citizens of Gryffindor, I stand before you as a symbol. A symbol of peace, a symbol of a new beginning. The war between my country and yours had gone on for a long time. Too long. Many lives have been lost. The lives of good men have been thrown away in battle. People have lived in fear of what daybreak will bring. I have seen much bloodshed and despair. It is time for a new era, one without the threat of conflict looming over our heads. My father is dead. I hold the fate of Slytherin in my hands." He paused, looking out of the crowd. My heart was beating faster. I knew what was coming next and I began to fidget uneasily. I wasn't even giving the speech, yet I could barely contain my nerves.

It amazed me that Draco's voice didn't shake as he smoothly continued his speech. He looked every bit the part of a ruler addressing his people. It was hard to comprehend the fact that he was no longer royalty. "I have decided in order to restore peace to our two nations, I will surrender the throne to King Dumbledore. Slytherin will become a protectorate nation of Gryffindor. Peace is needed in these war torn lands and I plan-"

There was a quiet twinge, almost inaudible over the combined noise of Draco's speech, the murmurings of the crowd, and my thundering heartbeat. Yet somehow despite all of that, I heard the almost impossible twinge. A split second later I heard the thud, then the cry, and then the screams.

It took me another second to see where the sound had come from. My eyes focused on Draco, staring at him for a moment before I finally comprehended the scene in front of my eyes. Draco was standing stock still, his mouth open in a silent 'o'. His hand slowly came up to his chest where the shaft of an arrow had pierced his skin and come out the other side. He blinked, blood oozing between his fingers. He took a step backwards, stumbled, and fell to his knees.

I found it amazing that I had heard the twinge of what I realized was the arrow leaving the string as all I could hear now was the sound of my erratic heartbeat. I couldn't hear the screams of the scattering crowd or the sounds of the guards shouting orders. All other noise was drowned out as I rushed towards my fallen boyfriend.

Kingsley reached him before I did.

He got in front of Draco, between him and the crowd, shielding the Slytherin from more arrows with his body.

I fell to my knees besides Draco as the blonde slumped backwards onto the hard steps. Kingsley was saying something, but all I could hear was my heart.

_BA-BUM_

Blood was seeping out around Draco's fallen form.

_BA-BUM_

Draco's eyes fluttered shut.

_BA-BUM_

I screamed for help, for somebody to do something.

_BA-BUM_

I pressed my hands to his shoulder, trying to stop the bleeding. Guards were streaming forward, picking up Draco. I tried to stay with him, but I was jostled out of the way by the guards.

_BA-BUM_

Tears began streaming down my face.

_BA-BUM_

_This may be the last time I ever see him._

I jerked to a halt and my heart did the same. The last thing I saw of him was not going to be his arm dangling limply as he was rushed down castle halls.

My eyes locked with Scrimgeour's where he stood by the doors. He leered at me. I took a shaky step towards him, but he was quickly lost in the surge of guards and castle officials.

I took off down the hall after Draco, wiping my eyes and leaving my face stained with red.

**Author's Note-**Lordie that was a long one! How'd you like that ending? How was the chapter? Review and let me know how you feel!

And with every chapter, we get closer to the end. I'm so scared! Thanks for sticking with me!

By the way, eight days till the Doctor Who 50th!


	34. Healing

**Title-**Harry Potter and the Slytherin Slave

**Author-**CarsonLuke

**Rating-**M for swearing, dark themes, and my paranoia.

**Chapter Summary-**Draco gives a speech and things don't go exactly as planned.

**Disclaimer-**The magnificent Draco and the others all belong to JK. .

**Chapter Thirty-Three-Healing**

_~Harry~_

The sprint through the castle was the longest of my entire life. I knocked into people, sending one servants carrying a platter of drinks sprawling to the ground. I didn't pause to apologize.

The door to the room they had taken Draco into was ajar, two guards with swords at the ready keeping anyone from getting in. When I approached, one stepped in front of the door, blocking my entrance.

"Please," I begged, trying to get a glimpse of the interior of the room. I had not come this far with my Slytherin just to let him die alone. I had not come this far with my Slytherin to let him die, period. "I'm with him. You have to let me in, I need to see him." Something hot was sliding down my face, and I wasn't sure if it was tears or Draco's blood.

"Let him in," came Kingsley's deep voice from inside the room.

Reluctantly, the guards stepped aside and I burst in. There were lots of people in the room, mainly more guards with a few castle servants, but my attention went straight to Draco. He was lying on the bed, Kingsley at his side. His hand was weakly moving, trying to push Kingsley, who was pressing down firmly on the blonde's chest, away. The arrow shaft was still implanted in his shoulder. I fell to my knees next to the bed, grabbing his hand that was trying to fight Kingsley. Blood was seeping out between the dark skinned guard's fingers.

"Draco," I whispered, squeezing his hand gently. "Draco, I'm here. Please hang on. It's going to be okay." His eyes swept down to rest on me slowly. His pupils were dilated and he seemed to have a hard time focusing.

"Harry," he croaked. "Harry, make them stop, it hurts."

My stomach clenched. I wanted to help him in some way, anyway, but I knew nothing of medicine, and I didn't want to make things worse. He didn't look good. His fine gray shirt was torn and blood stained, and the soft green cloak was lying in the corner, matted with Draco's blood. His normally pale skin was even paler, yet so hot to the touch. His eyelids kept drooping, and each time they closed, it took longer for him to reopen them. Each time, I was afraid I would never see his stone gray eyes again.

"Harry," he mumbled as I was stroking his hair. "Take Blaise and…" He had to pause as a fit of coughs raked his body. His face contorted with pain. He brought his hand, still grasping mine, up to cover his mouth, and it came away splattered with blood. "Go back to your house. He'll need someone to watch over him, and you deserve to go home."

"He's not going to need someone to watch over him because you're not going to die," I said forcefully. "I won't _let _you. Think of all things we're going to do once we leave here. You can go home. You're going to show me the land you grew up in. You're going to be there with me forever."

He nodded, a slow smile spreading over his face. "Harry," he whispered, the word barely more than a breath of hot air. "I…"

His eyes fluttered closed again.

"What?" I prompted, but he didn't answer. "Draco," I said more frantically. "You what?" But he didn't answer.

It felt like a hand and gouged a hole in my chest and grabbed a hold of my heart, squeezing until it exploded and an emptiness was left in its wake. I was too stunned to do anything but gape. Draco, _my Draco,_ was fading, barely there. He was dying, and there was nothing I could do. Suddenly, hands were on my shoulders, dragging me away from Draco's bedside. I fought, kicking my unknown assailant, struggling to get closer to Draco. I couldn't let him be alone. I couldn't let him die alone.

"Mr. Potter, you need to leave. The doctor needs to work, and you'll just get in the way," a voice said from behind me.

"No!" I screamed, throwing myself towards Draco, but the hands kept pulling me towards the door. "He needs me! I have to be with him! I have to be with him!" Tears were streaming down my cheeks again, blinding.

The last glimpse I caught of my Slytherin before I was torn from the room was of him lying still on the bed, hand still outstretched from holding mine. An old man, hunched with age, hobbled into the room, caring a basket full of salves and bandages. A dark haired serving girl followed him, closing the door behind her.

The guards took me to my room. The minute they let go of me, I tried to dash out the door, but a surly bald man blocked my way. "You need to stay here," Kingsley said apologetically. "The best thing you can do for Draco is let the physician take care of him. He's Dumbledore's personal doctor; he'll do everything he can for Draco. I'll bring word if there's any change." He and the big burly guard slipped out into the hall.

I violently twisted the knob, trying to force the door open, but to no avail. I hadn't expected it to work. Hissing, I spun around, looking around the room rapidly. "Fuck!" I screamed, kicking the dresser as hard as I could. Ignoring the pain in my foot, I collapsed onto the bed.

I was letting him down. I was leaving him alone. He needed me, and I wasn't there. I wasn't there and he was going to die. _NO,_ I told myself. He wasn't going to die. He was Draco, he a Slytherin, the last of the Malfoy lineage. He was not going to die. Not here. Not now.

I clawed at my face, violently wiping the tears from my eyes. Draco wouldn't die. No. He was far too stubborn for that. He had escaped from the flaming Slytherin capitol, he had walked miles with glass shards in his feet, he had concealed his identity for months, he had suffered beatings, he had seen his father die and his armies slaughtered. A simple arrow couldn't kill him.

My mind began to go to that arrow. Who had fired it? I had never desired to kill a man, but if I found out who was responsible for this, I wouldn't hesitate. Could Scrimgeour be responsible? He couldn't possibly be; he'd been standing right next to Draco. But the look on his face…I couldn't shake that from my head.

There was no news from Kingsley for the next hour. The sun faded and the moon came out, and still no word. Servants brought dinner, but they had no news. I didn't touch the food. I felt too sick and too anxious to eat. It was well into the next day before Kingsley stepped into the room.

"You look a wreck," he said.

"I couldn't sleep. What news of Draco?" I demanded, hastily getting off the bed.

The tall knight frowned. "The court physician removed the arrow and bandaged him. He lost a lot of blood. His shoulder is shattered. He thinks Draco will pull through, but he is unsure when he will wake up."

I nodded. The blood loss, I had expected. I hadn't even thought of his shoulder. "Take me to him. Please," I added.

Kingsley sighed, then gave in. "If the physician tells you to leave, do as he asks."

The sickroom smelt of blood. The iron tang of it was everywhere, so strong I could almost taste it. Draco was still asleep, his gray shirt gone. His chest was bare except for strips of white bandages that wrapped around his chest and left shoulder. Fading bruises and bites from our first night in Hogsmeade decorated his torso. The sheen of sweat covered his chest and face, and his cheeks had a slightly sunken appearance to them and, but yet he seemed oddly at peace.

The black haired serving girl from the previous day sat by the bed, gently dabbing at his chest with a wet cloth. She jumped when I closed the door. She was slim and wore a beige dress under a faded blue apron, yet her she had a pretty face with features that didn't seem at home in Gryffindor.

"My lord," she said, bowing her head.

"I'm not a lord," I replied as I pulled a chair up on the opposite side of the bed, "Just a farm boy. How is he?"

"My master applied a salve to keep his wound from being infected. He says he should recover. He is lucky my master got to him when he did. He was very close to dying." She dipped her rag in a bowl of cool water and wiped the beads of sweat from Draco's chest.

I leaned forward and brushed Draco's hair out of his face. "Let me help with that." I took another rag from her bowl and began wiping the sweat from Draco's forehead. He let out a small moan, but did not wake.

"Prince Draco is lucky he has you to care for him," the serving girl said after a while.

I nodded and continued dabbing at Draco's brow before stopping to look at the girl. "Why did you call him Prince Draco?" I asked. "He's not a prince anymore."

"Forgive me, my lord," she whispered. "It's hard to break habits."

I frowned. For a Gryffindor, it would very hard to forget that the Malfoy had willingly given up his title. "Where are you from?" I questioned.

"I was born in Slytherin, sir," she replied. "I lived in my Lord Draco's capitol city."

I nodded. It made sense, her reverence for the blonde, as well as her high cheek bones and strong jaw, prominent features in Slytherin. "What's your name?"

She looked up and met my eyes. Hers were a light brown. "Pansy, my lord."

_~Draco~_

_I was hot, so hot. _

_The flames leaped high, catching my drapes and lighting my bed hangings ablaze. There was no where I could go, nowhere to run. My city was on fire, the flames lighting up the sky. The screams of the dying echoed through the night. I scrambled back, away from the flames, but there was nowhere to go. The fire was getting closer and closer, sweat trickling down my face, and all I could do was wait for it to burn me, kill me._

_Was the fire or the Gryffindor soldiers penetrating my city a better way to die?_

_I wouldn't know, because the flames where almost upon me. I called out for help, yelled for help, but none came. The fire leapt out, catching my shirt on fire. My shoulder burned and I screamed, but there was nothing I could do. _

_I was burning._

I jerked up suddenly. I wasn't in my chambers in Slytherin. I was in a room, a small room, and it reeked of blood and fever. A wave of white hot pain washed over me and I vomited on myself and the bed sheets. I fell backwards onto the bed, crying out and cradling my shoulder.

Something cold was scrubbing at my chest, cleaning away my vomit. "Draco?" someone was saying. "Draco, are you okay? The doctor is coming soon. How are you feeling?"

A bespectacled face swam into my vision. "Harry?" I croaked. He smiled, cupping my cheek. His eyes were anxious. "I just got sick on myself. How do you think I feel? What happened?"

"You've been unconscious for the past two days." He stroked my hair, and I leaned into his touch. "I was so worried about you, Draco." His voice cracked. "I thought I was going to lose you."

I laughed weakly. My head was spinning and my shoulder was on fire, but I still managed a laugh. "You can't get rid of me that easily, Potter."

The doctor came shortly and Harry had to leave so he could get my cleaned up. That was the first time I noticed the other person in the room, the one who had been washing my chest. A pretty girl with long dark hair helped me into a sitting position as the doctor unwrapped the bandages around my chest.

I stared at her, squinting. She seemed so familiar, like I knew her from somewhere I couldn't put my finger on.

The physician was an old man with long white hair and gnarled hands that shook slightly as he undid my wrappings. "Pansy, bring the fresh bandages," he said.

"Pansy," I whispered. Then it dawned on me. "Pansy!" I exclaimed. "From the slave cart!"

The girl smiled. "Had I known I was lying next to my lord, Prince Draco, I would have done more to help you."

I returned her smile. "I'm glad you're okay. I was worried about what may have happened to you." The physician smeared a yellow paste on the wound that was still slowly oozing blood. It stung and I clenched my teeth together.

"The wound will heal soon enough," the old man told me, "But your shoulder is broken and may continue to bother you long after it's healed. I've done my best to set it, but the bone is so shattered that I'm afraid all my healing cannot fix everything."

When they were done, I sent them away and asked for Harry. He entered the room, bags under his eyes. "Have you gotten any sleep?" I asked, sitting up gingerly.

He shook his head. "I wanted to be there when you woke up."

I patted the spot on the bed next to me. He sat gently, leaning in to brush a soft kiss across my lips. "I'm awake now," I told him. "So you can get some sleep. Lay down and I'll still be here when you wake up."

Harry laid down slowly, his ebony hair a stark contrast against the white pillows. "Don't scare me like that ever again," he whispered.

"I'm sorry," I murmured, leaning back against the pillows Pansy had set out to prop me up. "Thanks for taking care of me."

Harry chuckled softly. "I'm in love with you Draco; it's my job."

He fell asleep quickly, the past few days catching up with him. When he was sound asleep, I took his glasses off and folded them, setting them next to him. I may no longer have been a prince, but I had everything I needed right next to me.

**Author's Note-**I'm so so sorry it took me this long to update! I've been dealing with some personal things, busy with school work and college admissions tests, and I've had writers block. I can't promise a fast update for the next chapter, but you never know.


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